


Take Me Home

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Religious Fanaticism, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Sam falls in love hard, and is left heartbroken, desperate for a second chance at happiness. So when Castiel finally calls and wants him to join his family at their home in rural Texas, Sam is sure he can make it work this time. Three weeks later, Dean’s suspicions grow when he still can’t find either of them.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 62
Kudos: 56





	1. In a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for dubious consent, manipulation, show-level violence, and psychological trauma apply.

That was the moment Sam lived for. That moment, when blue eyes slipped closed, when Castiel’s lips parted, and his dark head fell back, exposing a pale throat. That moment, when nothing mattered in the world except for Castiel’s tightening muscles as he arched toward Sam involuntarily. That moment when the world faded, and the only sound was the groaning sigh from his lover’s lips. That was the moment. 

That was what Sam missed the most. 

He blinked tears into his pillow. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he torture himself with memories like this? Why didn’t he shut them down as soon as they began playing in his mind? They were so painful. They made his whole body ache. Lying in bed alone after Castiel had graced it for so long made him cold and miserable. Knowing Castiel himself wasn’t thinking of him at all made him want to never wake up. 

Would he have done it all again? Knowing what this would be like? If he had known what after Castiel would feel like, would Sam have opened his heart in the first place? 

Yes. Dammit, yes, of course he would have. Of course he would have martyred himself. One moment like that moment was worth every ounce of pain after Castiel had left. The memories of the perfect kisses, the perfect fit, the perfect rhythm, the perfect feeling, would all have to last him the rest of his life. Fortunately, his broken heart might make that quick. He couldn’t imagine wanting to get up out of this bed again. He would rather starve to death. 

Sam had dutifully taken down their pictures. He had hidden them away in a box with their old notes to one another, where they couldn’t assault him without warning. He had done all the things one was supposed to do when managing a healthy breakup. He had donated the mugs only Castiel had used. He had thrown out the magazines only Castiel had read. He cancelled the streaming service only Castiel had watched. He had replaced their sheets and blankets with new, unfamiliar ones that Castiel wouldn’t have liked. He had moved furniture just enough so that he wasn’t constantly staring at the ghost of Castiel in his favorite spots. 

It would never be enough. 

At night, in his new bedsheets, he still writhed with desperation, fighting against himself, wanting to remember and wanting to forget, and never quite able to do either to satisfaction. 

Through it all, Castiel himself was just fine. 

***

It was fine. It was natural to miss Sam now and then. It didn’t mean he had done the wrong thing in leaving. 

Castiel might have liked to focus on Sam’s poor qualities, except that the man didn’t have many of those. So instead, he resolved to simply not dwell on the good ones. He could go days without thinking of the way it felt when Sam held him firm against him, the way they had slotted together so perfectly when they made love. No matter what they changed, that never did. It was a beautiful fit, every time, the way their bodies and hearts entangled. Castiel didn’t have to think of those things. It was fine. 

In fact, it was better than fine. He was free to do as he knew he should, and yet he had some sweet memories to ease his way. His time with Sam was a blessing, a way of knowing the world before cloistering away from it. He had truly loved the man, but now it was time to put all that away and be what he was meant to be. To do what he had committed to doing, long before he had known Sam or how good he felt. 

He had stayed too long with Sam. He knew that now. Things had gotten too easy, too sweet, too familiar. Sam was a temptation, and Castiel had been too eager to test himself. 

But the End was coming, and he had to be ready. It was his job. It was what he was meant for. Men like Castiel could not live according to what felt good. They had to fight for what was right. Temptations were to be overcome. Sam had been the Devil’s best work, the greatest lure Castiel could even imagine. But he had a job to do. 

There were no men like Castiel, of course, for he was no man. He was a harbinger Angel of The End.

*** 

“Did you know, Sam, that in the year 1523, an astrology club frightened all of London into believing that there would be a world-terminating flood which would stem from London itself the following year? Tens of thousands of Londoners fled just in case.”

Sam did not look up from his students’ papers, but he smiled. “I imagine they were relieved to find that the world didn’t end.”

“Oh, it did. But that’s happened many times before, and it had little to do with London, and it wasn’t in the month the astrologers suggested it would be.”

“How embarrassing for the astrologers.”

Castiel shrugged. “They simply revised their prediction. The new flooding of the world by way of London would be in 1624, they said, not 1524. Details were tricky. They could be forgiven a century’s difference.”

“Practically within the margin of error,” Sam agreed. He marked the paper with a crisp hand, in red, and placed it in the pile of finished grades. 

“Of course, London has always thought itself destined to be the center of the apocalypse. The only time it actually was the center was 1666.”

“Ah. The Great Fire.”

“And the plague. Bad year for plague.”

Sam sat back against the headboard finally. “Cas? Are you getting at something, or is this just a trivia game?”

When he looked up, he found that his lover would not meet his eyes. 

“Cas?” He frowned, and removed his papers from the bed, along with his pens and laptop. He set them all gently on the floor beside him, and smoothed Castiel’s side of the bed to invite him into it. 

The man raised himself from his chair, and sat on the bed gingerly. “Sam, do you...Did you know the world has ended many times already?”

Sam took off his reading glasses and set them on the bedside table. His frown deepened. “Cas, are you being serious right now? Is that a real question?”

Castiel laughed anxiously. “No, of-of course not. It’s…it’s a story I read once.”

His muscles relaxed, and he lay them both down. “Oh. Then, no, I didn’t know that. Sorry. I was reading the kids’ papers, and I guess I lost track of our conversation. I never read that. Tell me about it, but lie on my chest while you do.”

His lover seemed pleased by this. “Yeah? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I like science fiction too. Tell me.”

He wrapped his arms around Castiel, and felt him sink into the embrace. When he spoke, his soft, deep voice vibrated through Sam’s chest. “The world ends every so often. It has done this thirty-nine times before now.”

“That’s quite specific. Go on.”

“Each time, humanity is able to pull itself from the wreckage. But knowledge of the event is always lost to rumor. Floods, fires, so forth, it all destroys writings about what happened.”

“Convenient.”

Castiel glanced up at him. “What does that mean?”

Sam shrugged a little. “Can’t disprove something when records are destroyed. Makes it hard to dispute a conspiracy.”

There was a pause of silence before Castiel continued. “Yes,” he said finally. “Anyway, survivors tell the stories, and pass them down, and they become legends or incomplete histories. The world itself doesn’t end, but much of humanity does. The reality of what happened and how bad it was fades over time, and people are left thinking it was just a run of bad luck or a freak weather event, or a string of poor decisions culminating in a tragedy. What’s lost is grieved but it recedes from our collective memories.”

“What was the name of this book?”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is that the fortieth End is soon to come, and it will be the one to end humans everywhere.”

“The big one.”

Castiel frowned up at him. “Yes, the big one.” There seemed to be frustration in his voice that Sam didn’t understand. “The first thirty-nine took place all around the world. The fortieth will be all of them happening again, all at once. What devastated one site will soon cover the planet in chaos.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. Does this story have a happy ending? Did they prevent it from happening?”

The man sat up again, and he seemed perturbed. “Of course not! It’s what is meant to happen! And it hasn’t happened yet, but it will!”

His eyebrows shot up at the intensity in Castiel’s voice. “Okay, okay. Was this a book you read as a kid? One that...stuck with you?” He didn’t want to ask if it was a book that had scared Castiel as a child. If it was, he understood why the man wouldn’t want to say so. Sam would never admit how paranoid he had been after his first reading of The Stand when he was too young to have encountered it. 

Castiel sighed. “No. I mean, yes. I read it as a kid. Many times, in fact. It was...always there.”

“But you don’t remember what it was called?”

“The Teachings.” It was said quietly, as though he didn’t want to invoke its name at all. 

Sam nodded slowly. “Cas, you never tell me much about your childhood. All this time, I’ve never met your family.”

“I’m not in contact with any of them. Not...right now.”

“Were they particularly religious?” It was all too common for a man who loved men to have a background that included intolerance by family. He had long suspected that was the case with Castiel. But he had never pushed him on it before. They had been together months now, and it felt like forever to Sam. He never wanted to see it end, so it was weirdly all right that he didn’t know Castiel’s beginning. After all, it felt like Sam’s life had finally begun when he had set eyes on Castiel for the first time. Everything before this love was a blur, and the future was far too bright to see. So he was curious about Castiel’s past, but content with the man as he was now. 

Tonight seemed different somehow. Castiel still wasn’t meeting his gaze, and he was beginning to think they weren’t talking about a book anymore. His lover’s words were cautious now. “Yes.” He took a deep breath. “Yes, they are religious. Devout.”

“Can we talk about it? Sometimes I feel like you want to talk about it, but you don’t.”

“We can talk. A little.”

Sam reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Well, you know about me. Raised by my dad. Mom died when I was a baby, in a house fire. My big brother, you’ve met Dean. We were on the road a lot. Dad was a long-haul trucker. We weren’t supposed to ride with him, but we did. A bit lonely, but at least I had Dean, and my books.” He waited a moment, then cleared his throat. “Cas? This is the part where you talk back.”

“Oh.” He licked his lips slowly. “I grew up without a mother too.” 

The teacher’s eyes widened. It hit him how crazy it was that he was hearing all of this for the first time after over a month of living with Castiel, over seven months of loving him. “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say. It was what people said to him. It never felt right, but nothing else felt better. 

“It was all right. I had several brothers and sisters. Women I called aunt, men I called uncle, though I was never sure if they were really family or not.”

He nodded, but that seemed strange to him. He was hardly an expert on a normal nuclear family. So he said nothing. 

“And...and then there was Father.”

Sam held his breath without knowing why he did. He had heard Castiel speak on the phone with a sister sometimes, and to her, he mentioned Father, but it was always said in such whispered, reverent tones that Sam had never felt like he could ask about him. 

“We were all...very close. I went away to study, but I always planned to return. I just haven’t wanted to since I’ve been with you.”

“Cas, we can visit your family anytime you want. I’ve probably got a month of leave racked up. Just let me know, and I’ll take a few days off.”

But Castiel shook his head firmly. “No. I can’t go to them until I’m ready to go back for good. And I...Sam, I am not ready.”

A chill came over him then. “Cas? Are you saying you’re going to go back to Texas one day soon? To live there?”

“Yes. I always planned to return. This is just a stepping stone, not a detour. My plans have never changed. When I need to go back, I will. But until then, I just want to enjoy my time with you.”

A sense of dread crashed over Sam. “Until then? Cas...Cas, wait. We-we just found each other! We just moved you in here! Look, I know it’s early, but-but, look, I’ll do some searching, and-and if you need to move back home, I can find a job there. Every place needs teachers, right? What’s it called? Tock…”

“Throckmorton County,” Castiel sighed. “But, Sam, don’t-“

He was already grabbing for his laptop. Excitement and anxiety competed in his chest. “Throckmorton. Okay. If we wait till a summer break, I can apply-Wow, that’s a really small population. That is...that’s barely enough people for a school.”

“We are all homeschooled in my family.”

“I guess so! You’d almost have to be. But-but that doesn’t mean I can’t find something near there! Cas, why are you talking like you moving back home is the end of us? You don’t mean that, do you?”

It had been the end of them. It took another ten months, during which Sam had convinced himself Castiel wasn’t really going to leave him behind. But finally, Castiel received a phone call from his sister Anna, and his face had gone absolutely pale, and Sam had known before the man had even turned to him that it was over. 

Castiel had packed lightly, left most of his possessions behind, and had not looked back on his way out the door, out of Sam’s life, less than a week later. Two months had passed, and Sam still did not know why.


	2. Among the Saved

Father was with someone. Castiel could hear it. He didn’t know if it was a man or a woman. It didn’t matter. He seated himself awkwardly on the bench outside the open door. He could hear Father’s voice, could hear breathless moans from his partner. He tried not to.

A young woman sat beside him. “Brother Castiel. It’s been a long time. How is the world?”

He had been daydreaming about Sam again, but that had been abruptly cut off by the sounds of Father’s encounter. He was grateful for the distraction now. “Hello, Sister. The world remains corrupt and lost.”

She smiled at him, and patted his arm gently, nodding as though that were just what she had expected. “And how are you?”

Castiel took a deep breath. “Filled with grace and weary of the journey,” he recited. The words still fell uneasy from his tongue, even after having been back in the compound for nearly two months. The first five weeks had been spent in isolation, deep meditation, quarantined from the others. He had fasted severely, and fallen sick for most of the sixth week. The worst of it was that the meditation, the purge had not worked. Castiel had not succeeded in detoxifying from his time spent in sin. 

He still missed Sam terribly. 

“And you, Sister?” he asked politely. 

“I’m well. Weary of the journey, as are we all. But it’s been a beautiful spring. I can’t help enjoying that.”

He smiled at her. “You should. It’s a blessing, and there’s nothing wrong with delighting in God’s work so long as you remember to be grateful for it.”

He could see from her gaze that his word still meant a great deal here. It was nearly painful the way everyone still seemed to look up to him for wisdom and guidance. Couldn’t they tell he was just as lost as the world outside? Couldn’t they see what a mess he was? 

Being here felt right, but it still felt like he was alien in his own home. He had felt that for a long time before he had gone on his sabbatical. His unique role among them meant that he was set apart from his brothers and sisters in a way that had always been lonely. The only place he had ever felt like he truly belonged was in Sam’s arms.

“Brother? He’s calling for you.”

He jerked to attention, and nodded shakily. “Right. I was...just remembering something...I’ll see you again soon, Sister. May peace greet you, always.”

“And you, Brother. I’m so glad you’re home. We’ve all missed you.”

He stared after her for a moment, then shook himself and hurried into Father’s house. He saw a woman he didn’t know gathering her clothes and slipping into the bathroom without a word. He cleared his throat, and turned to find Father seated in just his robe at his desk. “Castiel.”

“I greet you in peace and with a heart full of grace, Father.”

The man laughed, and stood to join him. “Good to see you finally! You’ve been back a while now, but Anna just told me you’re out of isolation today.”

He shrugged, and accepted a hug from Father awkwardly. Then he stepped back. “Yes, well, I moved out of isolation straight into bed for almost a week. I was stupid, and I held out my fast too long.”

Father’s eyebrow lifted. “You needed extra cleansing. What were you trying to purge?”

Looking into those eyes, Castiel felt as though his whole soul was on display. He shook his head. “Nothing,” he lied. “I just wanted to be thorough. Being...who I am, I can’t take the chance of bringing something into the family that might contaminate the others.”

His Father was smiling again, and he patted Castiel’s arm, just as the young woman had done. “Good son,” he murmured. 

The small praise soaked into Castiel’s heart, and he closed his eyes briefly to bask in it. “Thank you,” he breathed. Then he gathered his nerve to him again. “Who is she?”

“She’s new. Just finished her initiation. She’ll be a good mother.”

“Is there time for that?”

“Probably not.”

The casual way he said that made Castiel cringe. “Are we that close? Maybe we were wrong. Maybe it isn’t for another generation. Maybe we still have time to save-“

“Castiel.”

He swallowed his words miserably. 

“That’s what this is. Your time out in the world has made you fearful. Are you no longer weary, son?”

He stiffened his spine and stood straight. “I am,” he promised. “But just like you haven’t stopped initiating new members, I want more time to save as many as we can.”

“We don’t decide when the End comes, Castiel. It comes when it comes. And we must be ready. Especially you.”

“Yes, Father,” he sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

A soft hand touched his cheek. “You are so loved, Castiel.”

Again, a confusing warmth spread through him. His shoulders dropped from their defensive position. “Thank you, Father.”

The soul-seeking eyes were on him without mercy. “Eat with me tonight, Castiel. In the meantime, you should rest. I’ll send someone in to take care of you.”

“No, I don’t need any-“

“Castiel? You just talked about saving people. Do you think there aren’t some here who need to be purged? When they heard you were home, some asked for you in particular.”

He swallowed hard. “Did they? Why?”

Father laughed again. “If they need to purge desires of the flesh, and I’m not an option myself, they always look to you. You’ve denied family for a very long time, Castiel, but it’s time to play your role. Letting someone purge themselves and care for you is part of the job.”

Everything was part of the job. Only Sam had been beyond it. Only Sam had been separated from The Teachings. With him, it had been just love, just beautiful, wonderful love. “Yes, Father. I’ll go to my room and wait.”

“Good son. Go in peace.”

“Full of grace,” Castiel finished with a dry mouth. 

***

The room was hazy with smoke, and he was hazy with it. It was all coming back to him, as though the two years of self-exile had never happened. Walking the world all seemed like a fever dream now, as the days flew by. He was home, where he belonged, and it felt good. 

He rolled his hips lazily, pushing himself ever deeper into the man who needed him. It wasn’t Sam. No one would ever be Sam. But it was good enough. The smoke helped. The smoke had always helped. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked dutifully when he and his partner had finished. 

“Better,” the man admitted with lowered eyes. “Thank you, Brother.”

Castiel nodded. He let the man clean him with reverence and a warm cloth, and accepted a kiss. 

“We are all glad you’re home, Castiel.”

He smiled. “So am I. We are nearing the End, Brother. Keep your faith strong. These desires of the flesh will soon disappear. You are among the saved.”

Deep relief pushed a sigh from the man. He nodded. “Thank you, Brother,” he whispered again. 

Then he was gone. Castiel had not even heard him leave. His mind had tripped off on a tangent, seeking memories of Sam.

He frowned to himself. The purging of his brother’s desires should have had the same healing benefit for him. Frustration curled around his throat. “What’s wrong with me?” He stared up at the ceiling through the fog. 

Sam was haunting him. It was dangerous. No one knew that better than him. He was the chosen Angel, trusted by Father to lead the flock at the End. What would happen if he was still tethered to the world when it died? Would all the souls he led be lost too? 

Out in the world, home and Father and The Teachings had seemed so far away. He had kept up his prayers, certainly. But they had been mere recitations, words more than feelings. He had tried to feel the same thing when he prayed for the End as he had felt back home, the peace and promise he had always known when saying the words. But out there, with Sam just a room away, he just couldn’t make himself embrace the End as he always had before. 

He wasn’t weary of the journey anymore. 

Castiel’s eyes opened slowly. The smoke was dissipating, and, with it, his clarity. He sat up in the bed and leaned his elbows onto his knees. “I’m a fraud,” he hissed into the stillness. “I felt it again, I did, but I’m losing it all over again. Why can’t I hold onto the truth?”

Sam was among the lost. 

It kept him from sleeping some nights, kept him from eating some days. He did his work with the others, in the garden, cleaning the compound, tending the old houses, preparing food. But his heart was aching mercilessly all the while. 

Lost meant never being together again, and a stubborn part of Castiel refused to believe his time with Sam was over. As he had neared the end of his sojourn out in the world, he had become increasingly agitated, bordering on erratic. He knew he could not save Sam. There was no way to make Sam believe. It was too late for that. He was too invested in the world to be brought in from the cold. He had tried to think of a thousand ways to bring Sam into safety before it was too late. But he was forbidden to speak of The Teachings to one of the lost. That was for Father to do. It was too dangerous for anyone else, even Castiel. If he chose the wrong person to tell, he risked the safety and salvation of his whole family. 

But it wasn’t going away. Thoughts of Sam simply would not be purged. So much of the world had been just as corrupt and terrible as he had always known it would be. Not Sam. Not even his charismatic big brother Dean. They were bright spots in a dingy world, love among the loveless, hope among the hopeless. 

He had to try. Maybe he hadn’t been able to purge Sam because Sam wasn’t entirely lost to him, because he could still be saved. Castiel had to save him. He had to try. His heart would never know peace if he didn’t try. He knew what Father would say, so he just wouldn’t ask permission. Castiel was the Angel of the End, and angels were meant to save people. No one deserved to be saved more than Sam Winchester. 

He had to try.


	3. Location On

Sam had struggled at the end of the school year. Getting himself out of bed and trudging through the motions each day was hard enough, but he had tried to make himself smile through it too, for the sake of his students. Even so, particularly observant ones asked if he was okay now and then, and he had blamed his dreariness on allergies, and told them it was nothing they needed to worry about. The end of the school year was painful, but Sam hadn’t yet realized how much worse the summer would be. 

For the first time since getting his teaching certification, Sam had a summer off. No graduate courses or continuing education requirements, not even a job this time. He had saved his money to be able to spend time with Castiel. Now he had nothing but time, and no one to enjoy it with. Even Dean was too busy with work and his family to hang out much, though he offered. 

Days passed without any agenda. Sam mostly found himself working on his curriculum for the following school year, and reading books he didn’t have time for while teaching day to day. And staring at the chair Castiel used to sit in. He needed to get rid of that chair. 

Sam was flipping aimlessly through movies he didn’t even care to watch when his phone buzzed on the table. He sighed, and turned off the television to answer it. It was an unknown number, and he usually ignored those, but why not?

“Hello,” he murmured. 

“Hello, Sam.”

He sat ramrod straight on the couch. “Cas?”

“Yes. I was hoping we could talk. Do you have...Is this a good time?”

His heart was pounding in his throat, and he tried to swallow it down. “Yes! Of course! Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

There was a pause on the other end, then Castiel’s deep voice lowered in volume. “Sam, I need to see you. But I cannot come to you. Not-not all that way. It wouldn’t be allowed.”

A confused frown came over him. “Not allowed? What does that mean?”

His former lover heaved a sigh. “Sam, just...I need to see you. Did you mean it when you said you would come to Texas? Have you changed your mind? I left so abruptly, I don’t know if you’re angry or…”

Sam wanted to be angry. He wanted very much to be angry. But he was only hurt and confused instead. So he took a deep breath and responded. “I can be there tomorrow night. If I drive straight through, I can make it before dark. What is it? Nine hours and some change?” He was shaking head to foot, but he stumbled up and to his bedroom to begin packing. 

“Yes. Thereabouts. Sam, thank you. I’m so sorry I...Thank you for agreeing to see me. It’s important.”

“Cas, are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just need to see you, and you had said before that you would make the trip if I asked you to.”

The tiniest spark of bitterness welled up in him. “I said I’d uproot my life and move there if you asked me to,” he reminded him sourly. “You didn’t want me.”

Castiel let out his breath too quickly, then sucked it back in through his teeth, as though he were fighting a sob. Sam had never heard him like that before. “I want you, Sam. I’m not supposed to, but I do. I’ve wanted you every moment I’ve been gone, no matter how hard I tried not to.”

It was like a punch to his throat. Tears filled his own eyes, blurring his way. “Then why did you leave me?”

“Sam, I had to. This is bigger than what I want. Sam, it’s my family. Wouldn’t you do anything for your family? For your brother?”

He blinked until he could see his small framed photograph of himself and Dean leaning on the black Impala they knew as Baby. He sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I would, but, Castiel, I thought you were going to be my family too one day. I thought...I thought we were already becoming that. And then you were gone, with not even an explanation…”

“I know. I’m sorry, Sam. But if you come, I can help you see. Please. Sam, this is who I am. I kept it from you, but I can show you why I had to. And if you still want me when you know me like this, we can be together forever. Please. Just come to me, and I can save you.”

“Save?” But wasn’t that just what Sam needed? Didn’t he need saving in the worst way? Wasn’t his heart broken and his world gray and his soul flagging? Maybe it was an odd way to phrase it, but Castiel had often spoken in a way that wasn’t quite like other people, and maybe this time he was right. “Yeah. Okay. I’d like to be saved,” he whispered. “Just send me the address by text. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“I need nothing in this world, Sam. Just knowing you’re coming to join me gives me everything I could possibly want. May peace be your grace and strength, until we are together again, my love.”

The line went dead in his hands, and he stared down at it. Everything about that conversation had been surreal. After eight weeks of wishing Castiel would call, he finally had, and he had said everything Sam had wanted to hear. He wanted him. He wanted them to be together. He was sorry he had hurt Sam. But something in the man’s voice and words had seemed so strange. 

Sam shook himself, and tossed his phone onto the bed to pack his bag. He had gotten the call he had ached for all these long, lonely nights, and he wasn’t going to spend any more time wondering about Castiel’s speech pattern when he could be closing the distance between them. 

***

Dean looked up from his paperwork when his phone buzzed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and reached for it. “Sammy,” he yawned. “What are you doing texting so late?” 

The message seemed to stare back at him. 

“Dean, I’m going to Texas. Cas called and wants me to come.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Cas called?” he muttered. “Wait, what? Going to Texas?”

The next message was quick. “I’ve already left. Stopped for gas. I waited till I was a few hours out before I texted you, so you couldn’t try to talk me out of it.”

Dean grunted into the silence of his dining room. “So smart, and yet so stupid. Of course I’d talk you out of it. Castiel. Son of a bitch.” Dean had liked Castiel for the year and a few months he had known him. He was a weird, nerdy little guy who made his weird, nerdy little brother incredibly happy. Dean always got a kick out of the way the man seemed to know none of the pop culture references he brought up, and yet could recite Nietzsche and Vonnegut like some kind of savant. He never knew much about the guy, but that hadn’t seemed to matter, until the day he found out in a sobbing phone call how little Sam himself knew about him. He had gone to nurse Sam through a broken heart, and nothing he said about why Castiel had left had made any sense. Dean might have torn the man to shreds if he could have found him. 

And now here was Sam, running off to freaking Texas, just because that same coward had curled a finger at him. After weeks of nothing, now this. 

He lowered his head into his palm, and lifted the phone to send a message with his other hand. “You get stuck or something in that dumb car of yours, someone’s got to know where to come get you. Turn on your location on your phone. And don’t be stupid.”

The reply took a few minutes, but he nodded at it when it did arrive. “Location is on. Tell Lisa and Ben I said hey. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he repeated aloud. “Took everything I knew to put you back together the first time, Humpty Dummy. Last thing you need is to fall again before you even healed up.”


	4. Dear Ones

Father was gesturing to his own chest. “This? This is just a vessel, dear ones! This is just the husk that houses our immortal souls! And I am so, so weary of wearing it! Aren’t you?”

Over a hundred voices rang out in agreement. Castiel was quiet, but he watched his Father basking in the love of his flock. 

“These vessels are so heavy,” he cried out, “and we are so weary. We need them here on Earth. But you know where we won’t need them? Where we’ll be free?”

The flock responded with exaltation. The energy that was flooding them all was almost a tangible thing. It never failed to awe Castiel, the power and charisma which radiated from his Father. He looked around the room at all the faces, wide open with joy and hope. 

Sometimes he wondered which of the older women had borne him. It didn’t matter. They had all raised him, all loved him. He was grateful to each and every one of them. He was his Father’s son, and that was all that mattered in the end. A dozen children were born each year, and no one worried about who belonged to whom. Not in this family. They were all brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles. No one was mother, and there was just one Father. 

“That’s right,” Father laughed. “We won’t need these vessels in Heaven. Not in paradise. When the fortieth breaks over the whole world, our husks will fall to return to the dust, but we will be in our promised sanctuary. All of us, forever young, forever strong, and forever full of God’s grace and peace!”

Castiel glanced down at his phone to check the time. His heart began to pound every time he remembered that Sam was heading toward him. He would have to ask forgiveness of Father, but it would all work out when he convinced Sam to stay and learn The Teachings, and be saved. 

“When our Angel feels the tremors, when the winds blow and the lightning strikes, when the End is upon us, our Angel will cradle us in his wings and lead us into our sanctuary. Pain and sorrow will be a thing of the past. Grief will never touch us again. Those are all things of the vessel, dear ones! Once we’ve shed these tiresome vessels, we will never hurt, never hunger, never thirst, and never desire again, for we will live forever in love and peace.”

Desire. It was still the thing that tethered Castiel to this place. How could he lead the others as he was meant to do, as Father had seen in countless visions, if he couldn’t break free of the desires of his vessel? 

“You know, God showed me the way to paradise years ago. So many years ago. Most of you weren’t even born yet. And I thought, I can’t keep this to myself. It would be unforgivable sin to keep it to myself. But I had to be careful. I had to share God’s messages with only those ready to hear it. You were each hand-chosen, dear ones. Those of you who think you found us, let me tell you, it was the other way around! How do you think you knew what road to take? How did you happen to speak to the right person, who spoke to the right person, who introduced you to me? That’s not simple dumb luck, my dear ones! No! That’s design. That’s divine providence! That’s the power of God! Never doubt for a moment that you were chosen. You wouldn’t have found your way if you didn’t belong here! It’s as simple as that! God protects our family from those who would harm us, those who would try to break down what we have built up. You are walking sacred ground here, protected ground. And if you’re getting weary of walking, let me put your mind at ease.”

Castiel smiled up at Father. 

“No! Let me put your soul at ease! Are you weary of the journey, dear ones?”

He mouthed the words along with them. 

“Can you hear me? Are you weary of the journey, dear ones?”

“Yes, Father!” they cried out again. 

“Then know that your Father has bought you a ticket to a better existence. Bought it with the blood I’ve spilled, the callouses of my hands, bought it with sweat and endless work, because I know it’s all worth it if my family is saved. I bought you each a ticket, dear ones, and in days, not years, not months, but in just days, you’ll be able to shed this heavy vessel, and take your place among those chosen souls with a reservation to paradise. Not everyone is coming with us, dear ones. I work day and night to save as many worthy souls as I can before time runs out. The truth is that I just cannot reach them all, and what’s more, some don’t want to be reached.”

Please, Castiel prayed silently. Please let Sam want it. Please let Sam accept his Teachings. Don’t make me ascend without him. 

Father sighed heavily. “Some want to be reached, but can’t make it to us without help. That’s why we have the ugly business of dealing with money. It’s wicked, dirty, but it has to be done if we want to save as many as we can. Haeli, come here, dear one.”

The woman Castiel had seen in Father’s home his first day out of isolation emerged from the crowd to step forward. Her smile was radiant. 

“Haeli? You’ve come to us from far away. But you’re family now. And as part of this family, you’ve released all your worldly possessions to the collective, to help us help even more of the chosen who haven’t been able to find their way here yet. They’re lost. Reaching out for a hand to guide them. Just as you were. Just as many of you were.”

Castiel had often wondered what it would be like to be a new member. He had been born here, schooled here. His only time outside the compound, aside from occasional supply trips, had been his sabbatical, at the age of twenty-four. He was twenty-six now, more knowledgeable and yet more weary than before. He had been drifting, especially after finding Sam, but the call from Anna had jerked him back to his purpose. Being home had reminded him who he was. Six weeks of listening to Father’s recorded preaching in isolation had brought it all back. He dreamed every night of Father’s voice again, as he always had before. Before Sam. Before he had nearly lost his way. 

For as long as he could remember, the voice had been broadcast throughout the compound to accompany their sleep. It was soothing, reassuring, constant. It was nearly too quiet to hear the words, but the voice was all Castiel needed. 

The world beyond the compound was paradoxically too loud in the days and too quiet in the nights. The first months of his exile had seemed physically painful, and he had called Anna, pleading with her to beg Father on his behalf, for permission to come home. But as weeks went by, it became easier to sleep without the voice, easier to interact among the lost. He stopped calling Anna. He wasn’t really supposed to anyway, unless he needed something. Once he met Sam, he needed nothing else. 

Father’s voice rang out now. “She’s been among us for some time now, and her initiation and isolation time has been successful. Let us all embrace Sister Haeli, and teach her everything she needs to know about our life. The funds she has cleaned her hands of are already at work helping others. Now she can be at peace with us.”

Cheers and greetings rose up from the gathered family. Haeli was beginning to cry, and several of the old aunts crowded around her for comfort. 

“May peace greet you always, Sister Haeli,” Father said graciously. “May peace greet us all.”

“May peace greet us all,” Castiel whispered with the others. 

“Good night, dear ones!”

Two women rushed to follow Father as he walked toward the door of the community hall. Castiel saw Father smile at their request, and nod. Then he locked gazes with Castiel across the room. 

“Castiel?” he called. “Are you all right?”

Most of the congregants were chatting among themselves, but several turned in curiosity to look at the Father and his favorite son. Castiel’s cheeks felt uncomfortably warm suddenly. He hurried to Father’s side. “I’m fine, Father.”

“Something is troubling you.”

He could feel the stares of his sisters flanking Father. “I’m fine,” he said again. “I’m still readjusting to being home. That’s all. I feel...out of step.”

Father smiled kindly at him, and touched his cheek with fondness. “It’s all right, Castiel. You are back where you belong, but it will take some time to step back into your role here. Would you like to help one of these sisters with their purge?”

Castiel stepped back involuntarily. “Uh, no. Thank you, Father, sisters. I’m happy to help if I’m needed, but if not, I think I’d like to sleep early tonight. Is that all right?”

He nodded, and turned to the women again. “Let’s all get washed up for the orgy. You’re both so beautiful.”

The Angel cringed inwardly. It was only a matter of time before he would be needed to help a woman cleanse her vessel of desires. He had done it before, of course, but not for a very long time. After having been with Sam…

But it wasn’t about his pleasure, he reminded himself sharply. It was about hers. About those who needed release, who had been abstinent for as long as they could, and who wanted to be relieved of their ever-increasing desires. It was natural to need that release. Father taught them to fight it when they could, and to find a safe way to purge when they couldn’t. There were acceptable ways of dealing with the tiresome needs of the flesh. Confessing them to Father was the first step. 

Castiel did not confess to Father. 

He lowered himself into a bath of ice and water upon returning to his space. Unlike most of the others in the compound, Castiel’s status allowed him his private apartment. So no one was witness to his asceticism. 

The cold was painful, but it did the job. Sam would arrive near sunset, at the base of the compound. Castiel needed to expel all his desire before then, or he would be a victim to it at the first sight of Sam. Cavorting with the lost during sabbatical was one thing. He was home now, and it would never do to give in to those impulses he knew would plague him. 

His skin stung, and his teeth chattered relentlessly. He made himself sit in the ice long after desperation to leap out of it had given up. 

How many nights had he spent as a teenager in this tub, quelling his hungers? As soon as he was old enough to move out of the nursery, and into his own place, he had established rituals which would keep him strong, keep him clean. Some days, he emerged only to study with his tutors, and then locked himself away for meditation and fasting and ice. 

Most of the time, it had worked. When it hadn’t...Well, that was where the needles came in. He couldn’t even remember the first time he had pricked the tip of his fingers to kill the urges. Whenever he had tried everything else but still wanted to find relief in his own hand, he had pricked that hand mercilessly, one finger at a time. It never showed afterward, and it was a faithful reminder that the vessel was the cause of all pain, that shedding the vessel at the End would be the only permanent relief. 

He was the harbinger Angel. There was no amount of weakness which was acceptable for him.


	5. Scarred Vessels

Sam had called Dean as promised, and let him rant. It made the man feel better to scold Sam, to warn him, and to play the overprotective big brother. He had listened patiently, but the ten, nearly eleven, hours in the car alone had solidified Sam’s resolve to see this through, and Dean ran out of steam eventually. Before hanging up, he had sworn again that he would call in the morning, that he would remember to charge his phone, and keep location on. Sam wanted to try telling Dean he was a grown man, but that had never stopped Dean before, so he didn’t bother. If it let Dean sleep at night to have exacted these promises from Sam, that was fine. 

There was nothing in Throckmorton, Texas. Almost nothing. He had found the country cafe where Castiel had asked to meet him, and was finishing a homestyle chicken dinner when the love of his life blew in the door. 

Sam had frozen. 

Castiel smiled briefly at the woman behind the counter. He was speaking quietly with her, which was just as well, since Sam was certain he would be unable to speak himself. 

“Hm,” the waitress grunted, startling Sam. “One of those.” She was watching Castiel as she lay the dinner check on Sam’s table. 

He fumbled for his wallet, and pulled out the cash to pay. His hands were trembling. “One-one of those?” he repeated absently. 

“Yeah. That guy there. Nice enough, but his whole group is so weird.”

“Uh huh,” he murmured. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks, kid. Look, see that mark on his neck?”

Sam frowned then and forced his brain to focus. Castiel did have a scar on his neck. He had never told Sam where it had come from. “What about it?”

The woman was still watching Castiel’s discourse with the older woman with suspicion. “They all have that. You see anybody around town with that on them, you turn and walk in the other direction. Mind that you do.”

“But why? You just said he was nice.”

She snorted. “Nice. But the stories coming out of that place they got down there, you don’t want to hear. Bunch of new age weirdos. People come in to town, they go into that place, and they don’t come out, or if they do, they’re changed. Probably the marijuana they smoke or something. But local cops keep their eyes on them anytime they’re in town. Deputy Trenton once told me, what they do down there in that camp of theirs was their own business, but he was going to be the first to find something to charge them with if they don’t behave in the town, if they try to get too friendly with anybody.”

Sam stared at her. “They’re not…dangerous.”

“They’re not safe,” she countered. “Can’t just go to Church of Christ or First Baptist like the rest of us. Always smiling a little too much. Nobody living in Throckmorton County should be that happy all the damn time.”

Finally, Sam chuckled. “That’s it? They’re too happy for a place like this?”

She turned to him with no humor in her eyes. “Just stay away from the Scarred Vessels and their land. And be sure they stay away from you.”

In that moment, Castiel turned around to see Sam, and their eyes locked. It lasted only a moment, but it took Sam’s breath entirely. Then the man he loved turned again, and walked out of the cafe without another word. 

“Weirdo,” the waitress muttered. 

Sam grabbed his wallet, and hurried after him. When the door to the cafe had closed behind him, he called out. “Cas!” 

There were emotions on his lover’s face he had never seen there before. But he held himself stiffly and far from Sam, as if afraid they might touch. “Follow me,” he said in a low voice. 

“Cas, what-“

“Not here, Sam. Follow me in your car.”

It was hardly the reunion Sam had hoped for. He swallowed his disappointment and frustration, and climbed into his car again, to follow the old pickup truck Castiel was driving onto dirt roads. The sun was setting, and it grew lower and lower on this dark road, until all Sam could see were the truck’s taillights, and he wondered how Castiel could see much at all. But there were no other vehicles out this far, which was good, since Sam felt certain two cars could not pass by one another on this tiny one-lane road. For the first time, he acknowledged that Dean hadn’t been wrong about Sam getting stuck or lost in the middle of nowhere. His car was not made to handle this terrain the way the work truck could. 

Finally, Castiel seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled the truck through a wooded area, and suddenly Sam could see a dimly lit gate. He realized they had been following a fence line, though he hadn’t been able to see it in the dark. Castiel got out of the truck, and unlocked the gate chain, then swung it open so they could both drive through. Then he stopped again to close the gate and lock it tight. Sam felt a strange shiver as he heard the click of the padlock out his open window. 

Castiel was murmuring, and Sam craned his neck to see him speaking with a young man Sam had not seen, next to the gate entrance. He patted the young man’s arm, and nodded at him, then got back into his truck without even looking at Sam when he passed his window. They drove again, for nearly a mile, before Sam saw lights. 

There were small, wooden homes, much like barns or sheds, dozens of them, all in a sort of imperfect circle in this valley beyond the trees. Sam stared at the tiny town which seemed to spring up out of nothing. 

When at last they stopped, and Castiel climbed out of the truck, they were still a significant distance from any of the structures. But finally, he gestured to Sam to park his car and join him in the night air. 

He stumbled out of his car gracelessly. “Cas? What is this place?”

His lover stood before him in very dim light. Shadows darkened his face. “This is my home, Sam,” he said, and then he reached for him. 

The rest of the odd night’s events flew from Sam’s head as he leapt into Castiel’s arms again. He began to weep immediately. The exhaustion from the drive, the weeks of depression, and the relief of holding his lover again brought sobs to his chest. 

Castiel soothed him with his hands and quiet voice. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I never want to be apart from you again. I’m so sorry.”

Sam took hold of Castiel’s hand, but dropped it when the man flinched. “You-you hurt yourself?” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

Castiel’s bright blue eyes seemed duller in this light than they had back home. “I’ve been...working in the gardens here, as I used to, and I haven’t built up my callouses again yet. That’s all.”

Sam nodded, and sniffed. “Cas, whatever made you leave me, can we talk about it? Can we fix it?”

“I never left you, Sam. I went home. I had to. But you’re here now, and I’m going to make everything work out.” He smiled, and Sam detected a bit of a tremble. “We need teachers here too, you know. And you’ll never have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of everything from now on. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ll spend eternity making it up to you.”

Suddenly, the strange town seemed idyllic in its ruggedness, the land gorgeous in its wild form. They had missed the sunset here, but Sam knew in his heart it would be beautiful. It wasn’t so different from the areas he and Dean had hiked and fished in over the years. Drier, quieter, but calming. He could be happy here, if he could be with Castiel, if he could teach and fit in well. Castiel was rooted here; what roots did Sam have? 

“Let’s get inside. There are some things that will be required, but then we can rest and talk everything out. You can ask anything you want to know, and I’ll tell you everything. I’m so happy you’re here, my love.”

Sam took in a long, deep breath of fresh air, grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat, and smiled down at Castiel. “Lead the way.”

“That’s what I do,” Castiel responded.


	6. The Good Man

It had been days since Sam had promised to call when Dean tried texting him. A week later, Dean was calling his number every few hours. Lisa told him to stop being paranoid, but he could see that even she was beginning to worry. Finally, she stopped saying anything when he raised the phone to his ear, and just watched with hopeful eyes. 

Dean had a busy life. He worked hard, and he took care of his family. He ran his business, and he attended all of Ben’s activities. He cooked and mowed the yard and fixed up the cars, and did everything he had always guessed a normal, good father should do. More than anything, Dean was there. He did not pick up and go when the urge hit, did not stay out late, did not miss events in his kid’s life. He was there, no matter what. There was nothing more important to him in the world. 

But this was Sammy. 

So when Lisa found him staring at a computer screen without really seeing anything after nearly three weeks of no communication with Sam, she had taken his hand and told him to call her regularly so she and Ben knew he was safe, and to come home to her as soon as he could. He had whispered promise after promise, then packed a bag and let the Impala’s engine roar. 

He started at Sam’s apartment, and could see how quickly his brother had torn out of the house. He tossed some water at the dying plants and took off down the road again. 

The phone had stopped its signal, but the last place it had been turned on was a county in Texas called Throckmorton. The location feature had Dean looking at maps of dry wilderness, where it seemed there was nothing to be found. 

“He got eaten by a cougar or something,” he snapped at himself when he had to stop for gasoline. He didn’t know if they had cougars where he was going, but that didn’t stop him from imagining Sam’s horrible end with one. “Stupid cougars.”

This had him looking up local wildlife on his phone while he ate a sandwich at a truck stop, and he hadn’t been pleased to find that alligators were on the list. Could they eat a six foot four guy? He imagined they could, if they wanted to, if Sam was dumb enough to go near them. Where, though? There didn’t seem to be any water in the whole damn county. 

“Why would anybody choose to live there?” He wondered. It was the perfect place if someone wanted to drop off the planet with no trace. 

At the next stop for gas and lunch, he called a buddy of his from the military, who worked as a police officer in Fort Worth now. 

“Dean! Haven’t heard from you in a minute! What’s going on with you, chief?”

“Rolling down interstate 35, Benny.”

“Yeah? You coming to visit?”

He smiled to himself. He loved that Benny sounded so pleased to hear from him. “Wish I could, man. Look, I’m going to get right into it. My kid brother. Remember Sam?”

“Of course.”

“He’s in some kind of trouble down west of you.”

There was a short pause, then Benny spoke again. “Legal trouble?”

“No. I don’t think so. No, of course not. It’s Sam, Benny. Clean as a whistle and just as annoying.”

His friend laughed at this. 

“No, I don’t know what exactly is going on. But I thought maybe you’d mull it over with me. Got time?”

“Always got time for you, brother. West of me, you said. How far?”

Dean sighed in relief. “Place called Throckmorton? About two hours off from you, as far as I can tell.”

“Throckmorton! Ain’t nothing in Throckmorton, brother.”

He crumpled his trash from his sandwich and dropped it in the bin, then headed back out to his car. “Not nothing, buddy. My brother’s in Throckmorton. Or he was. He went missing three weeks ago, and that’s the last lead I got on him.”

This time the pause was a little longer. “Missing in Throckmorton County. Why does that strike me familiar?”

Dean leaned on his Baby and frowned. “What? I don’t know. Why?”

“Gimme a minute to do some digging. I’ll call you back soon as I got anything.”

“Thank you, Benny. Really.”

“It’s for Sam,” he responded. “I know what he is to you.”

The Impala had just left 81 for 79 when his friend called back. He snapped off the radio and grabbed it. “Benny?”

“Heya, brother.” The man’s voice was tight on the other end. “Listen, gimme your 20. I’m gonna meet up with you.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You don’t have to do that! It’s pretty far into the middle of nowhere. I’m probably just going to find my kid brother at some dingy motel with that bitch of an ex-boyfriend of his, and then kick both their asses for making me worry. No reason you got to-“

“Gimme your 20, Dean. I made a few calls, and your brother ain’t the only one gone missing in those parts. Not by a mile. If you’re walking into a nest of trouble, I’m going to be there with you to have your back.”

Dread filled Dean’s heart. He read the mile markers off to Benny, let him tell him where they would meet up. Then he cleared his throat. “What is it you think I’m walking into?”

Benny gave him a humming growl. “I don’t honestly know. But I do know there ain’t nothing that can take us both out. Not if we’re together.”

That should have made Dean feel better. It didn’t.


	7. Not Missing. Gone.

Jody Mills smiled at Officer Lafitte as he pulled in. A black classic muscle car followed closely behind, and she nodded at that driver too. When Benny climbed out of the car, she shook his hand, but found herself caught in a bear hug, pulled right off her feet. She laughed. “Put me down, jackass,” she barked.

“How’s my girl?”

“Still standing. How’s my girl?” she teased.

Benny treated her to a rare grin. “Now, Jody, we talked about this! That’s my girl, and you’re to stay away from her! Y'all were rookies together in Fort Worth while I was still in N’Orleans! How am I supposed to compete with the chemistry you two got?”

She smacked him on the arm and stood back. “Well, tell Donna she’s the only Lafitte I care to see. Haven’t heard much from her since the sheriff’s conference. Imagine my disappointment to see you calling instead!”

Benny chuckled.

The second man closed his car door and walked toward them. He was handsome, though he could use a shave, and the Texan in her appreciated the bow-legged saunter and attractive jeans. But she just turned to Benny in question.

The man who had married her best friend years ago heaved a sigh. “Thanks for meeting us, Jody. This here is Dean Winchester, buddy of mine from service. He’s interested in your missing person cases.”

Jody’s smile faded. She shrugged. “They ain’t missing, Benny. They’re just gone.”

“What’s the difference?” Dean asked in a gruff voice.

She looked up at him. “I keep telling the feds and the suits from all over when they come sniffing around. They ain’t missing. Those folks are right here in Throckmorton, just not planning on coming back out, that’s all.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You looking for someone?” she guessed.

“My brother. Last place I know he was is here.”

Jody nodded sadly. “Sounds about right. A couple of them a year. Sorry, kiddo.”

Dean’s eyes flashed in anger. “Sorry! Sorry about what? I’m here to find my brother and bring him home!”

She looked back at Benny. “You know how many times I’ve heard that? Look, we do welfare checks on those wackos often as we can. But we can’t barge in without a warrant, and there’s no chance of us getting one. Nobody’s being kept there that doesn’t want to be. Place is creepy as hell, but folks are free to go. They just don’t.”

“What place?” Benny asked in his quiet tone. “What you hiding out here in nowhere?”

“It’s been here longer than I have,” she said. “And it’s why they couldn’t keep a sheriff in this county till they recruited me from Fort Worth. It’s a church.”

Dean looked very tired. His eyes were dark and rimmed in red, and he seemed to be holding onto his temper by a thread. “It’s a what?” he growled.

“A church. I’d call it a cult, but we’ve been told not to.”

“Told by who?”

“By the one of them they got sitting on the judge’s bench, same one who would never sign a warrant to search the place, Michael Shurley, whose dad owns most of the land out there. Most don’t know it, but he owns most of the county, except for the town itself. Judge Shurley has made it clear there’s no cult in Throckmorton. It’s a faith-based community.”

“A commune,” Dean snarled. “A damn cult.”

She shrugged again.

Benny looked at his friend. “Dean, maybe she’s right. Maybe Sam doesn’t want to be found.”

Jody’s voice was quiet. “He’s over eighteen?”

Dean’s chest seemed to be paining him. He kept rubbing at it. “He’s-“ He cleared his throat. “Just turned twenty-six in May.”

“Yeah. They don’t accept anybody under eighteen. They got their own kids, but they’re smart enough not to take anybody else’s. Plus, kids don’t have any money to donate.”

The man snorted and nearly smiled. “Guy’s a teacher. He doesn’t have any money either.”

“How long did you say he’s been gone?”

“Three weeks. Little over.”

“By now, he probably doesn’t have anything at all. Far as we can see, members donate their entire bank account, any investments, property and worldly goods to the collective, and they name the leader as beneficiary to any insurance policies.”

Dean was having trouble breathing by this point. “How can this be legal? How can…”

Jody glanced at Benny.

He coughed a little. “Missing person case is different when it’s an adult, brother. There’s only so much we can do if we know he ain’t hurt. If we find out Sam just up and joined a church commune, there might be nothing else we can do. Give him a chance to leave with us...then leave without him if he don’t want to go. So long as nobody is holding him, we got no recourse.”

One look into Dean’s tired, angry eyes told Jody that the man had an idea about what sort of recourse he had, and it was nothing to do with the law or law enforcement.

She smiled sadly. “Benny, don’t get yourself in any trouble, all right? Just do your searching and move on. You can’t afford to lose your job. Our girl would have my neck.”

Benny laughed with the same sad defeat sounding from it. “Mine too. But not if it was what was right, Jodio. Donna would take my head off if I coulda helped somebody that needed me but I didn’t because it put me in a bad position. Especially if it’s a friend asking.”

Jody had no response to this. They both knew Donna, and they both knew that woman would do absolutely anything for a stranger who needed saving, let alone a friend. This Dean guy was lucky to have a friend like Benny, guided entirely by fierce loyalty and a wife whose heart always pointed toward what was right, not what was easy.

Dean’s eyes were flashing. “My brother’s soul is not for sale. If these people are the ones keeping him from his family, they’re going to wish they’d never met him. Your hands might be tied, but mine aren’t. I’m bringing my brother home.”

“And if he doesn’t want to go?” Jody asked gently. She admired the man’s determination and protective nature. But she wondered about how far over the line he might venture, forcing her to have to step in against him.

“I gotta hear that from him myself.”

She nodded. “Okay. Welcome to Throckmorton County. Watch for javelinas, don’t piss off any coyotes, and don’t step on any rattlers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And Lafitte?”

Benny looked up.

“You find any actionable trouble, you call me. I’ll be there in a heartbeat, Judge Shurley be damned.”

He smiled. “You got it, Mama.”

She watched them turn back to their cars, then shook her head, and got back into her own.


	8. Get Me Through Tonight

Castiel looked up as the door opened at last. Tears sprang to his eyes immediately, and he leapt to his feet before the first one could fall. “Sam!” he cried out. 

The brother who carried him in was the last one Castiel would have chosen to comfort the faithful after their initiation. He wondered at the decision to have callous Raphael be the first person a new member would see upon exiting isolation. But Sam was here now, and Castiel would help him heal. 

He took hold of his lover from Raphael, who lifted an eyebrow, then moved to the door. “See that he drinks water, Castiel,” he said on his way out. “He’s been refusing.”

“Sam?” He helped the man to the bed, and lay him out, but Sam curled into a ball right away. He cringed. Castiel knew he couldn’t personally relate to what Sam had experienced in his first isolation. There had never been a first time for Castiel. He was always among the flock. But he knew it was disorienting and frightening for a new member, and his heart ached for Sam. 

“Cas?” Sam’s voice was trembling badly. “Cas, don’t. Not water, not for me.”

He had been reaching for a cup he had waiting, but he stopped. “What? Why?” 

Tears streamed down Sam’s cheeks. His beautiful hair was sweaty, tangled, and his face was dusty. But the part which tore at Castiel most was how dry and broken Sam’s lips and hands were. 

“You’re dehydrated, Sam. Please.”

“I don’t...I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve…”

Castiel wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly. Sam had lost weight, but that was to be expected. He was shaking terribly, and Castiel realized he was quite cold, and mildly feverish at the same time. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over him, then returned to holding him in steady arms. “Of course you do, my love. Of course you do. Will you drink a little water for me?”

“I’m not clean,” the man whimpered. “You don’t understand, Cas, I’m not-“

“You’ve been cleansed, Sam. These weeks have not just been to teach you of your sins. They’re to clean you of them too. You’ve received the grace, and it saves you. Please. Drink some water.”

“Cas, my whole life, I’ve been...How can you ever have loved me? I know what you know now! How could you ever…”

Castiel helped Sam to shower off his isolation, but as soon as he drank some water, he vomited violently, and they had to begin the shower over again. Hannah dropped off Castiel’s dinner and soup broth for Sam, gave them sympathetic smiles, and slipped away. It took most of the night, but Castiel was able to get Sam to drink the broth and keep it down. 

All along the way, Sam murmured in broken sentences about how unworthy he was of being saved. At last, he took a shuddered breath, and met Castiel’s gaze. “Cas?” 

The broth had given him a bit of his strength back, but Castiel knew as well as anyone how draining the isolation could be, and he wasn’t surprised to find Sam was exhausted to the bone. Listening to The Teachings for weeks on end while in complete solitude, eating and drinking only what was brought and left by members who could not speak to a new initiate...It took its toll. But Father knew it was the only way, and Castiel had seen how many had been saved by the process. He was just grateful it was not too late for Sam. He touched the man’s cheek softly, and listened. 

“I understand what you are now.”

He smiled. 

“You’re an angel.”

Castiel had once been proud of that designation. He had done everything in his power as a child and a young man to prepare to rise to the expectations of Father and the flock, to be the one to lead them all at the End. But hearing Sam say it, with that awe in his voice, filled his heart completely. “I am,” he answered happily. 

“You’re the best among us.”

He kissed Sam’s forehead. “No, Sam. I’m just the first among us. The one who will walk through the door first in the End, to guide the others. I’m no better than any of the others. I simply have a responsibility.”

Sam gazed up at him, even as sleep was clearly fighting to claim him. “I said I would go where you needed to go. I thought…” He laughed a little. “I thought you meant Texas. That’s-that is where we are, right?”

“Yes, Sam. For now. But soon we will be in paradise. Together.”

“Even if I’m...me?”

A wave of affection washed over him, and he put his arms around his lover. “Especially because you are you. I broke every rule bringing you here, Sam. I was scolded and made to do penance for it. But none of that matters now, because here you are, among the saved.”

“Cas, I still...I have...I’m not as clean as maybe you hoped I…”

He smiled kindly, and wiped at the new tears with his fingertips. “Coming clean of all desire is a long-term struggle, Sam.”

“But desire is of the vessel; it’s wrong to-“

“Shh,” he soothed. “You know Father’s words. You know what he says about seeking release.”

Desperate want was on display in Sam’s wide open face, and Castiel felt his own desires flooding up. “You don’t think I’m weak? For needing it already? You don’t think…”

“I think you’re still human, Sam. So am I. We can purge together tonight, and then you must sleep, and awaken clean and new tomorrow morning. Do you understand?”

“When do we ascend, Cas? It’s all I can think about. You and ascension with you. I feel like there are other things I’m supposed to be thinking of, things from before...But they seem too far away. I can’t…” Sam frowned in frustration. “I can’t remember…”

“It’s all right. You’ll remember with time. Isolation, especially for the new initate, is overwhelming. It takes all your mind and soul and heart just to process Father’s Teachings. But you’ll feel less foggy soon. I promise.” Then he looked into Sam’s eyes insistently. “Sam? Do you still want me to touch you? We don’t have to. If you don’t need it, we won’t.”

Sam cringed with humiliation. “I’m so sorry, Cas. It’s just been so long! I feel like it’s been years since anyone touched me, let alone you. When you helped me clean up, I thought I was going to come out of my skin. I know The Teachings now, I’ve memorized most of it, and I know it’s just an affliction of the vessel, a famine of the body which the soul doesn’t need. But...but I still need it, Cas. Please. I don’t want to make you dirty. God, I feel so disgusting.”

Castiel shushed him gently, petting his hair and skin with love. “No, Sam! No. It’s all right. Just as we have to eat for the vessel to function, so too do we have to feed its other needs. So long as it isn’t in excess, and it’s done appropriately, it’s all right.”

“Then yes. God, Cas, yes. Please touch me. Let me touch you. I’ll be stronger tomorrow, I swear. Just get me through tonight. I’ll make you proud of me, Cas. I promise. I-I know I rejected The Teachings initially, the first few nights, when they-But I understand now. And you won’t be sorry you brought me here. I’ll be strong tomorrow. Please get me through tonight.”

With a happy smile, Castiel lay Sam out on the bed again, and let his gaze drape over the long, beautiful, naked body. Everything was going to be all right now. He would help Sam heal, and now that he was among the saved, he would help Sam ascend when the time came. Until then, he would purge his own sea of desire by letting the waves crash over Sam tonight, and they would both be washed clean before morning. 

Everything was all right now.


	9. Apostasy

A man’s gentle voice was singing over the guitar. Gabriel rolled his eyes. If there was anything his father truly loved, it was the sound of his own voice. Gabriel had slept without that voice, generally blanketed by softcore porn stars, for years. If he had his way, he would never hear a recording of his father’s voice again as long as he lived. 

Live, he did. 

Gabriel was a man who loved life and the world, and that was completely antithetical to the teachings of the Scarred Vessels. Gabriel was scarred, certainly, just like the rest of them. But unlike the others, he liked his vessel. He liked living in it. He had rejected the family business nearly eight years ago now, and he had never regretted it for a moment. 

So what the hell was he doing back at the compound? He rubbed at the scar on his neck, the brand they all wore to identify them as belonging to the flock. He had considered tattooing over it, a thousand times, but had never quite been able to go through with it. He lived in opposition to The Teachings. He wouldn’t go so far as to desecrate what amounted to his family crest. It was the only link he had to family. 

Well, that, and the fact that his father had his cell phone number, in case of an emergency. 

Gabriel did not greet any of the others as he slipped quietly as a fox through the compound he had grown up inside. He knew every last inch of this place, every hiding hole, every eavesdropping perch. His father had called him, had summoned him to come home to talk, and he would do that, but he didn’t want to take the chance of running into one of the faithful while doing so. He especially didn’t want to see any of his actual brothers. 

His father’s voice stopped abruptly. “Gabriel?” he called out the open door. “Is that you lurking around?”

He snorted uneasily as he stepped inside. “Lurking? I was invited, remember? More accurately, I was coerced.”

The man set his guitar aside and stood to hug his son. “Gabriel,” he sighed. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Yeah. I bet. Look, if this is just you checking to make sure I’m not writing a book or something-“

He laughed quietly. “I know you’re not. You know I’d snap you out of existence for disloyalty like that.”

Gabriel’s stomach was twisting itself into knots. “Then what? Why did you call me?”

“Can’t a father simply miss time with his son?”

“Probably, but neither of us know what a normal father and son might be like, Chuck. So why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”

He sneered a bit at the use of his nickname. “Chuck,” he repeated with a growl. 

Gabriel was quaking inside, but he smirked outwardly. “I won’t call you Father. And you’re hardly a dad.”

“You arrogant, spoiled-“

He lifted his palms. “Good chat. I’ll show myself out. You know, the same way I did years ago.”

Chuck’s eyes flashed with fury. “You’ll stay right there,” he corrected. “I called you because it is time.”

Alarms began to chime inside his head. He swallowed hard, and tried to look uninterested. “Time. Time for what?”

“It is time for the ascension, Gabriel. It’s your last chance to be among the saved.”

Every emotion he had ever felt ripped through his heart now. But he managed to keep smiling. “I’ll risk it,” he croaked. 

“You should have been the one, Gabriel. The Angel of the End. You know it should have been you. I named you for it.”

“Little Castiel was always a better angel than me. He might not have the name, but he’s got the faith. He’s devout. Trumps everything.”

Chuck hummed in agreement. “That’s what Raphael always said.” Then he shook his head. “But leaving you behind will wound me.”

“Where do you think you’re going? You know as well as I do that the whole thing is bogus. You know better than I do. What are you going to do when the whole family realizes they’ve been living in a carnival all this time? When nobody ascends anywhere, what are you going to tell them? They’ve got to wait for the next bus? Oops, the ascension must be next year? Got the date wrong?”

The anger in those eyes made Gabriel tremble, just as it had when he was a child. But he stood his ground, held the gaze, as though fearless. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you, Gabriel. I have some cash for you. You can take it and never look back. I’ll trust you that you will uphold your end of the terms by which we parted years ago? Even after our ascension?”

Gabriel sniffed in disgust. “I’m not telling anyone about the family. I said I wouldn’t. I just want to be left alone. You promised that. I promised to leave it behind.”

Chuck retrieved an envelope from his desk drawer, and handed it over. “This is the last thing you’ll receive from this family, Gabriel. I hope it’s worth your soul.”

He clutched the envelope tightly. “Yeah. Except the money has never been what keeps me from talking. And it isn’t the last thing I’ll have from you. My nightmares will follow me wherever I go, long after you’re gone. It’s worth it to not be living the nightmares. Good luck, Dad. Hope you find your paradise.”

Gabriel crept back out of the compound twenty minutes later. Once on the outside, he dropped to his knees on the ground and threw up everything in his stomach. At last, shaking from head to foot, Gabriel managed to get himself to his car, and drive away from this place, back out into the land of the lost, where he belonged.


	10. Hell’s Bells

The bells began to ring out on the Thursday after Sam had left his isolation. It was just an ordinary Thursday that morning, but when the bells began in the evening, time seemed to stop.

Thursday. Castiel had been born on a Thursday. He had left the nursery to live alone at age thirteen on a Thursday. He had left for his sabbatical on a Thursday, and he had received his call to return on a Thursday. He might have known that, when the bells finally rang to call them all, it would come on a Thursday.

His heart was pounding.

Sam stared at him with an open mouth. His eyes were duller in the light here than they had been back in Kansas, but they were beautiful, and Castiel loved them. “Is that...Cas, are those the bells? The ones…”

Castiel took the man’s trembling hands in his own. “Are you weary of the journey, my love?” he asked breathlessly.

He nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course. Are you sure I’m ready? Are you ready?”

“You’re saved, Sam. And as for me? I’ve been preparing for this moment since I was thirteen years old. Longer. This is my purpose. My reason for being. Come on. Clothe your vessel for the last time, feed it for the last time, and let us go to the community hall to wait with the others.”

“You’re not afraid?”

He smiled. “No, Sam. Not so long as you’re among us. If you are saved, I have nothing left to fear.”

When they had dressed, they hurried to the gathering point. Over a hundred voices chittered in nervous excitement, and when they saw Castiel arriving, cheers roared out. “The Angel!” they cried. Tears streamed down faces, spouses gripped one another’s hands, children pushed in among the aunts who cared for them, asking question after question.

Castiel put his hands up for quiet. “We all know from The Teachings that the bells mean that Father has had a vision. That they continue to ring means that this vision showed him that our End is here. I will speak to Father, and hear his testimony, and I’ll return to spread the revelation among you. In the meantime, if there is anything you want to do at the completion of our journey...You must do it now.”

Sam grabbed his arm. “Cas! What do I do?”

He could barely hear him over the eruption of activity all around them and the sound of his own heartbeat. “Whatever you feel you want to do. This is the End, Sam. Your phone was returned to you just this morning. Perhaps...perhaps you would like to say goodbye to your brother.”

The dull eyes sharpened just a little. “Dean,” he breathed. “How could I have...How long has it been since I spoke to him? Cas? How long have I been here with you?”

Castiel was already heading toward the exit, but he glanced at his lover.

Sam had taken to wearing his hair pulled back out of his eyes, something Castiel had never seen him do before, and he wore his reading glasses all the time now. His long, slender frame had lost some weight while in isolation, and he now wore borrowed clothes, including a sweater vest and trousers.

It hit Castiel suddenly that Sam barely looked like himself at all just then, especially with that strange expression of fear. He frowned. “Three weeks, Sam. Over three. Most of that was your initiation. You joined us just in time.”

“Did I...Cas, I don’t really remember...I drove here, but then...I’ve been here three whole weeks?”

He took a deep breath. “Sam, I need to go to Father. But I’ll be back, very soon, and I’ll help you with this. Don’t be afraid, my love. This-this is what we’ve been waiting for. Wait for me. I’ll come back as quickly as I can.”

Sam nodded, but the fear remained plain on his face. When Castiel glanced back at him one more time, he could see his lover looking entirely lost among the bustling family.

He had to ensure that Sam was never lost again, that none of his family was ever lost again. It was up to Castiel. He quickened his pace to Father’s house.

“Father!” he called out. “It’s Castiel! We heard the bells and the family has gathered in the community hall.”

Father emerged from the home and looked up at Castiel with an odd smile on his face. “I did always love you, Castiel,” he murmured, apparently to himself.

He frowned again. Something seemed very out of place about that statement. “We all love you, Father. Is this the real thing? The End?”

He nodded and continued to smile. “It is. And as my visions have told me, you will lead us all.”

“Yes, Father. I’m ready. How did your vision see me doing it?” They were walking slowly toward the others. The bells had stopped now, and Castiel’s heartbeat kept up the music.

Father stared ahead. “You’ll be the first. I’ll be the last. It is up to me to ensure that they all walk through the door, Castiel. We leave no one behind.”

“Of course not.”

“I’ll be the last…”

Father’s voice sounded strange, and he watched him worriedly. “Yes, sir. How am I to do it?”

The smile did not falter. “We will drink the tea, as we have done before. I will add something to help ease any pain which the ascension might bring.”

Castiel stopped walking. When Father turned to him, he stared. “Pain? Do you expect the ascension to bring them pain?”

“We are ripping our souls from our vessels and offering them to God, Castiel. Perhaps it will be painless, but we cannot be sure of that. Think of the family, Castiel. They have suffered enough to get here today. I don’t want to see them in pain during what should be the greatest moment of triumph for their faith.”

“We-we are prepared for any sort of…”

Father’s hand was on his arm. “Of course you’re prepared, Angel. But why not make the transition as easy as we can? I’ve got the tea brewing. I gave Hannah the word, and she gathered several of the sisters to begin setting our final table. You and I will add the medicine ourselves, without telling any of them. You’ll do this for me? One last compromise for the comfort of the vessel before we leave it behind entirely.”

He nodded, but his stomach was churning inside. “Father? You had said...More than once, you’ve said that I, as the Angel, would feel tremors, telling us the End has come. You had your visions. I would feel the tremors of the earth which began the fortieth and last devastation of the world-“

Father’s eyes always sparkled like no one else’s in the whole compound. They matched his smile. “Cas, be still for a moment.”

He was.

“Do you feel it?”

Castiel closed his eyes to concentrate.

Father’s hand touched his chest gently. “The tremors are here, Castiel. You’re trembling head to foot. Your heart is beating so fast it shakes you everywhere. The tremors of the earth have begun, Angel, and they’ve begun in you.”

A wave of adrenaline had him sucking in his breath too shallowly. “Yes, Father. Please forgive my questions. I’m sorry.”

“Come on. Let’s prepare the tea for our family, Castiel. When we have all gathered, you will be the first to drink, a symbol of the coming ascension, and the others will follow your lead. Just as with the ascension itself, I will be last, to make sure none are left behind. Show only strength, Castiel, since the others can not afford to be afraid. Hesitation at the time of ascension would be catastrophic for us all.”

Castiel tried to calm his breathing. “Yes, Father. I promise, they will sense no fear from me. There will be no hesitation. I’ll lead them in drinking the tea. And I’ll await your instructions to follow.”

“They must all drink, Castiel. If even one of them were to feel the pain...It would cause panic among them. Every one of them must drink to ease the pain. Only then will we be ready to cast off our vessels.”

“Yes, Father. I won’t let any of them suffer. You’re right. This is our moment of glory, of reward, and none of them should be afraid or experience any pain now that we are here.”

Father smiled up at him. “Are you weary, Son?”

“I am,” he forced out of his tightening throat.

“Then let’s end the journey together. Lead them toward the light, Castiel, as only you can do.”

“Yes, Father.”


	11. Warm Welcome

Benny looked away as Dean shattered the padlock on the chain. He snickered. “Pretty sure you don’t get plausible deniability if you know exactly what I’m doing.”

His friend smirked back. “Not sure what you mean, brother. I didn’t see a thing.” He pointed to the lock. “Oh. Look. Their lock is broken. We should go knock on their door and let them know.”

“Sounds neighborly,” Dean agreed as they let themselves through the gate. “Good of you to come all the way from Fort Worth to check their crappy security system.”

“I’m a good guy. You know that about me.”

It was past sunset, but there was enough light to see their way. They drove only partway, and then left the car to approach on foot. Dean wanted to see what these people were up to before they announced their presence. With a little luck, he could find Sam and talk to him without anyone else becoming involved.

They crossed a circle of small shacks, but the place seemed entirely abandoned. They saw no one outside, could hear nothing from the thin-walled shelters.

“It seem a bit quiet to you?” he muttered.

Benny lifted an eyebrow. He was scanning the area without blinking. “Considering my wife’s academy friend says there are upwards of a hundred twenty folks living here? Yeah. Little quiet.”

“Could be as many as two fifty, she said.”

“By my count, we got zero so far.”

Dean began to reply, but his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he scrambled to answer it. It seemed terribly loud in the silence of the evening. “Sam?”

“Dean? Is this Dean?”

He stopped walking and frowned. “Sammy? It’s me. Where are you?”

“I don’t...I don’t really know. What are you doing right now?”

Dean looked into Benny’s worried eyes. “I’m with a friend.”

“What friend? Dean, all your friends are lost.”

“All my friends are not-This is not what I called to talk about!”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to call back. I’m fine. Better than fine. I’m happy, Dean. We’re all happy here.”

Dean could feel the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. “Yeah? And what are you and your friends up to? Where is Cas?”

Sam’s voice became muffled. “Listen. I’m going to go away with Cas, and-and I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ve prayed as hard as I can the last few...I don’t know, weeks? I really think you and Lisa and Ben will be okay. I really think you’ll be coming with us. Our souls are tangled up with one another, Dean, always have been, and now yours is holding tight to Lisa and Ben. I’ll be strong enough, okay? I’ll pull you all with me when I go. I can’t explain...You just have to trust me. I called to say goodbye, but we will be together again soon, very soon. Okay? Dean?”

He stared through Benny with horror in his expression. “Sammy? Tell me where you are. Right now. Did you and Cas leave that place? If you’re running somewhere, you gotta tell me. You owe me that! Where-“

Then the sound of singing permeated the air, and Dean nearly dropped the phone.

Benny’s eyes narrowed. “There. It’s the church. Look.” He pointed at the large building at the center of the compound, surrounded by flowers instead of all the vegetable patches they had seen everywhere else. “That’s where they worship.”

“Sammy?” Dean said gruffly. He could hear the singing from the phone as well. Sam was there. Relief washed over him. He had finally found Sam. “Stay right where you are. You hear me? Don’t you go anywhere.”

“It’s too late, Dean. It’s beginning. Or...it’s all ending. I’ll see you soon. I promise. Just have faith.”

When the line went cold in his hand, he turned back to Benny. “Something is going on. Like, right now. Call that sheriff buddy of yours.”

“Dean, we don’t know-“

“I know,” he barked back. “I can feel it. I’m going in to get my brother out of here. You better call that sheriff. There’s going to be trouble. I can smell it.” He went back to glaring down the hill at the church.

Benny nodded slowly, and reached for his own phone. He had barely dialed when Dean heard a grunt of surprise and a thud.

He whirled around to find a man standing over Benny with a shovel in his hand. Benny was lying motionless on the ground, bleeding from the temple. The dropped phone was emitting a woman’s worried voice, but the man with the shovel stepped on it and let it shatter under his boot. Dean’s mouth fell open. “What the hell-“

“Heaven, actually,” the man smirked. “I’m Father. Welcome to The End.”


	12. Tea Time

Dean was just waiting for the right moment to kill the guy.

Whoever he was, he enjoyed the sound of his own voice far too much, and Dean was ready to punch him so hard his jaw snapped the moment he found an opening.

But Benny was on the ground, and that shovel was right at his throat, like some freaking rural Americana horror flick, and Dean couldn’t risk it. The instant this guy let his guard down, Dean was going to end this, but he couldn’t risk Benny’s throat.

Of course, if the guy talked him to death, Benny was on his own.

“Our moment of glory,” the dude was babbling. Father. Who gives himself his own nickname anyway? “And you ride in here thinking, what? You’re going to ruin it all? No. No, I’ve worked too hard and too long. If you think I’m letting anything get in the way of something I’ve been-Do you even know how many years this has been? Decades!”

“Buddy, I don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? I told you. I came here to get my brother, and that is it. Whatever kind of handmaid’s tale you people want to live out, I don’t care. I’m here for my brother.”

“Which one?”

Dean frowned at the sudden sharpening of Father’s eyes. “Sam. Sam Winchester. You bring him to me, and I’ll leave all the rest of this creep show alone.”

Father glared at him. “No. Castiel chose him. I didn’t like it. I punished him for it. But I won’t take away the one thing he’s ever wanted for himself.”

“My kid brother is not a thing! And he doesn’t belong to anyone!”

“Castiel has done everything I have ever asked of him. He’s been everything I’ve ever needed him to be. He’s never asked for anything for himself.”

“What are you to Cas?” Dean barked.

Benny was beginning to moan hoarsely from the ground.

Father paused for just a moment, then a smile appeared that Dean was certain would haunt his sleep for years to come. “I’m his writer.”

Dean stared. “You’re what now?”

“I’m his writer. I’m everyone’s writer. I’ve been writing this story for years and years. And you’ve come just in time for the finale. The End. And maybe your arrival is just fine. You know? I was never able to share the story with anyone before. Maybe I deserve to have an audience for the last chapter.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Father chuckled softly. “Sometimes I thought I should just let the story go on as long as it wanted to. I liked some of the characters, you know? Especially Castiel. I mean, how can you not love watching Castiel? I thought, maybe I should just let the story run, stop actively writing toward the conclusion. Writing is hard!” He laughed louder now, and Dean heard hysteria underneath. “But then I reminded myself! What they always say to writers, do you know?”

Dean blinked at him.

The man’s smile became a sneer, and something about it made Dean’s stomach churn. He shrugged. “Kill your darlings.”

***

Castiel stared at the powdered herb Father had given him before going out to check one last time that every family member was in the community hall. Father had told him to mix in the herb with each cup individually, to prevent dilution which would occur by simply throwing it into the tea cauldron. The herb had a musty smell, but he supposed the tea would cover that. A bad taste was hardly a problem when faced with the salvation of their mortal souls. All the same, he had asked Hannah to add honey to sweeten each cup. Father had said there must be no hesitation.

Nearly two hundred cups.

It would take time, and his hands were shaking, but he went about this duty with an air of sacrament. This would ease their way to paradise. His family was counting on him. He could not let them down.

The tea and honey accepted the powder without a change of appearance. He placed a tablespoon of herb in each cup from the pewter container Father had given him.

His hands shook badly toward the end of the chore. He blinked his eyes hard, and tried to take a deep breath, but he found he could not.

Raphael entered the dining area just as Castiel was finishing the last cup. “Castiel?” he intoned gravely. “Are we prepared?”

He nodded. “Yes. Father will be along. He told us to get everyone seated and to pray, to drink the tea, and await further instructions from him. All phones and other devices have been stored away?”

“As Father wished. The family is ready, Castiel.”

Castiel’s heartbeat was thumping in his throat now. “Yes. Bring them in to sit. When we are all together, I will drink and the rest of you will follow my lead.”

Raphael watched him for a moment, with a strange expression on his face. Then he smiled bitterly. “The Angel must lead even in the last tea, I guess.”

Castiel looked away from the rows of cups to face his brother. “What? Yes. Yes, Father told me-“

“Father told you,” Raphael growled. “It could have been me. You know that? It should have been me. I was far more devout.”

He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“The role of the Angel.”

“Father’s visions-“

Raphael snorted. “Father’s visions! Do you think he couldn’t have just as easily seen me leading our family at the promised End? It should have been me.”

Castiel’s mind felt foggy, and he struggled to acknowledge what his brother was saying. He frowned. “You need to purge that sentiment, Brother,” he warned. “We are at the end. You cannot allow resentment of any kind to jeopardize your-“

Raphael lifted one of the cups. “It should have been me.” He threw back the tea, which burned its way down his throat to meet his anger. Then he turned and stalked out of the room to let the family in to take their seats.

Castiel stared at Raphael’s back in horror. “Father, forgive him,” he whispered. “Please let him purge any negativity and selfishness in time. He doesn’t mean it. He is devout, Lord,” he prayed feverishly. “Please. Don’t punish my brother for faltering now. He’s so close! Search his heart. You’ll find that he is one of the saved!”

The family began filing past him, to take seats at the three long tables. There were whispers, but mostly there were silent smiles and hands folded into laps with anticipation.

Sam was seated next to his own chair. He tried to smile at Castiel, but there was a tremor to it.

“Sam. Do not doubt now. We cannot afford to doubt now. We shed our vessels tonight, and there is no second chance. You must have faith. Do you?”

His lover nodded slowly. “I have faith in you, Angel,” he murmured back. “I love you.”

Castiel sighed with relief. It was enough. Faith took many forms, and Sam was new to it. But if he trusted Castiel, he would be saved with all the rest. He turned to address the family, who quieted immediately.

“This is the night we reach paradise, my loved ones. You will know the peace you have been promised. We will drink our last tea together, and await instructions from Father. The tea is critical to casting off the vessel in peace, and all who are saved must drink in preparation of ascension. Help the very young and very old among us, and soon we will never thirst again. When I drink of this last tea, you will follow my lead, and we will have finished the last business of these vessels forever.”

“Thank you, Angel!” one of the flock called out. The voice was immediately met by cries of gratitude from many others. “We love you, Brother Castiel! Father save you, Cas!”

He met Sam’s eyes, and smiled, and finally lifted his cup to his lips.

Before he could sip, a great crash at the next table whirled him around. He stared in shock as Raphael tumbled through the table, knocking cups over and wheezing violently, with his hands about his throat. Terror seized Castiel at the sight of his brother gasping for air.

Suddenly, the room seemed to brighten, Castiel’s mind seemed to brighten, and a sense of _wrongness_ filled him head to toe. He stumbled backward and viewed the scene of mounting chaos around him, and felt as though he had just awoken from a nightmare. More accurately, it was as though he had awoken into a nightmare.

“No!” he shouted suddenly. “Wait! Help him!” He tossed his own tea to shatter on the floor. “The tea. It isn’t to ease pain. Don’t touch the tea! It’s a mistake! Help him!”

“Cas?” Sam’s voice was the only one he could hear clearly. Raphael’s struggle to breathe seemed to encompass the entire room. He knew others were shouting for direction from him, for explanation, but he could not hear. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch the tea,” he cried again. A sob tightened his chest painfully. “It isn’t supposed to be this way. It’s a mistake. Raphael! Someone get to the phones! Call...call for help!”

Brothers and sisters were turning to stare at him. “We don’t call for help, Brother!” one shouted out.

“We do today,” Castiel said with a confidence he had never felt before. It was not Father’s confidence. It was his own. For the first time since falling in love with Sam Winchester, something felt right. He was right about this. “This is not the End,” he called out. “This is a mistake. Call for help. Ephraim, care for him as well as you can until help arrives!”

But their young nurse was shaking his head. He was leaning over Raphael, who had gone very still and quiet. “Castiel, he’s...he’s dead! Did he...ascend? Is that what…”

“No. No, this is all a mistake. Please, everyone, trust me. Do you trust me?”

His family turned to one another, and then back to him. “Of course we do,” one called. “What do we do, Brother?” cried another.

“Something is very wrong.” Castiel took a deep breath, and at last his chest loosened enough to allow it. “I’ve had...a vision.”

The family shouted a hundred questions, but Sam simply stood and took Castiel’s hand without a word.

Castiel was grateful for the warmth. He admonished himself silently for his trembling. “I’ve had a vision. And...and Father isn’t the one in charge anymore. He did his duty, saved us all, but he always knew I would be the one to lead us when the End came. Please. Leave your tea, take your children and help your brothers and sisters. Go to your homes. The End is not here tonight. Tonight...tonight is just for me to begin my leadership. It’s why...it’s why Father isn’t here now. He knows it’s my time. And I want everyone safe at home until I can give you more information. Will you do that?”

Hannah crossed the room in front of the staring crowd. She touched Castiel’s arm. “We all trust you, Brother Castiel. We will go home and pray and wait for your guidance.”

He was grateful to her for gently leading the others toward the exit, to blink into the night air as if emerging from a cave. Castiel dropped to his knees beside his fallen brother, and Sam joined him. When he looked up, Sam’s eyes were brighter than before.

“The tea. It was poison?”

Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Some kind of plant. Herb. Something like that. He had me put it in every cup. To ease pain, he said.” The room was emptying out behind them, just as Castiel’s anger flared. “Did that seem painless to you?”

“No,” Sam breathed. “No, that seemed horrible.”

He nodded, and lifted himself. “I’m so sorry, brother,” he whispered. Then he turned and walked to the exit himself. “It’s time I found Father and asked him the questions I’ve always been too ashamed to ask,” he growled.

Sam was fast behind him.


	13. From the Fog

Dean had dragged Benny as instructed into a shed. Until his buddy was safe, Dean wasn’t going to risk anything. But listening to this much crazy was wearing on his patience. The time for grabbing Sam and hitting the pavement had expired. Now, if he was understanding the mad man right, whole families were about to die. Dean couldn’t let that happen. 

On the other hand, this Father guy was the one with Benny’s gun, and the shovel, and nothing to lose. 

So the moment Benny’s eyes fluttered open, Dean gestured to him to stay down. The large man frowned slightly, but did so. Very slowly, without attracting attention from the rambling writer, Benny got a read of the situation. 

Dean had seen enough Bond movies to know that keeping Father talking was a good thing. But he had also heard the punchline of the author’s story, and he knew the death of the characters had already been set in motion. He had to get them out of there to help those people before it was too late. 

When it seemed as though Benny was up to speed, Dean made his move. Father had turned to look out the small window, still muttering to himself. 

“What are they doing?” he demanded. “Are they returning to their homes? It shouldn’t have taken this long to take effect! Why-“

Dean tackled him, and threw him to the ground with his full weight. Father huffed out his breath, and tried to gasp it back in. Benny rolled and grabbed his sidearm from where it had crashed from Father’s hand when he hit the dirty shed floor. The officer brought his booted foot down on Father’s wrist, and Dean could hear the crunch. Father shrieked in pain and rage, but the shovel clanged onto the ground. Benny kicked it. Dean held the howling man on the ground while Benny searched the shed quickly. 

“Here! Here. Zip ties. Get his hands together. Behind his back!”

Their attacker screamed and thrashed wildly, but Dean was able to hold him while Benny bound his hands. At last, Dean pushed himself up and stood heaving over Father. A glance told him Benny had his gun steadily aimed at the man on the ground. “Gotta find Sam!” he growled. “You got this?”

“I got this,” Benny returned in a cold voice. “Find Sam. But also find a phone. I gotta call in Jody Mills.”

Dean nodded and leapt from the shed. He surveyed the surroundings with disorientation. People were filing out of the center and walking toward the small homes as if in a frightened daze. It reminded Dean of families exiting a church after a funeral, the shock and grief still frozen on their faces, even when they tried to smile at one another. 

He searched frantically. “Sammy!” he shouted at last. “Sam? Anybody know Sam-“

A lovely woman with an ethereal smile turned to him. “Continue to your homes, Brothers and Sisters,” she called. “Castiel will help us understand in time. Go. I will deal with this visitor myself.”

But another voice lifted through the crowd. “Dean?”

He whipped around to find his brother striding toward him. He stared at the thin figure. He barely knew the man. “Sam?”

Castiel hurried behind him. “Hannah, wait! I know this man. He’s Sam’s brother. Dean, what are you…” The deep voice faded off as Castiel got a view of the inside of the shed behind Dean. His frown hardened. “Father.”

Sam was looking from one to the other. “What did you do?” he asked quietly. 

“Sam, I’ve come to take you home.”

“Did you hurt him? Benny? Is that you?”

“Heya, Sam.”

Dean watched Sam’s eyes narrow. “Benny, you’re bleeding! Your head!”

Castiel stepped forward with authority. Before Dean or Benny could intercept him, he had knelt beside Father and shoved him over onto his side to see his face. “Father,” he growled. “What have you done?”

The man on the ground snickered at him in spite of the pain in his eyes. “I finished the story, Castiel! But you’ve messed up the ending! What happened to my instructions?”

Dean could see the man trembling, both in fear and in anger. “You did it all on purpose,” he hissed. “We weren’t meant to ascend tonight. You promised us! Then you made me hurt them! You never meant any of it, did you?” Tears streamed down Castiel’s cheeks. “What was in the tea? You said it was to ease pain! But it wasn’t painless at all! Raphael, he died horribly! Is there anything you told us that wasn’t a lie?”

“The ascension requires death of the vessel, Castiel! You must-“

“No. Not like this. This is wrong! This isn’t fulfillment of promise! This is culling! Why? Was I not what you wanted me to be? Didn’t I do everything, everything you ever asked of me? How could you turn my loyalty to you into the pain of my family?”

“Your loyalty?” Father began to laugh. “Your loyalty? I wrote you! I made you, from dust to an Angel, I sculpted you! You’re my masterpiece, Castiel! You should have been complete by now! How could you not see this through to the end? Ascension requires sacrifice, Castiel! This is what you were built for, and you’ve let me down after all we’ve done?”

Dean watched Castiel shake his head in disbelief and horror. Tears streamed from his electric blue eyes, as he stared. “It’s all been a lie, hasn’t it? Everything you made me do. My whole life is a lie. You don’t have visions. You never did…”

“You were my vision, Castiel!”

“And Raphael? What was he?”

Father shrugged. “A sacrifice. That’s what they all were.”

Sirens were blaring in the distance, and Dean could feel Benny’s relief. The woman, Hannah, listened quietly from behind Sam. She spoke up at last. “Perhaps that is all we were to you, Father. But Brother Castiel has always cared for us. When he saw that your path brought pain and fear, he led us to safety, as we always knew he would. Castiel is our true savior. He was always meant to lead us from darkness into light. Tonight, he is doing that. The least you can do is not bring further pain to him, or to any of the others.”

Dean grabbed hold of Sam’s arm and was alarmed by how thin the man was. Could three, nearly four, weeks really do such damage? “Sammy? We gotta help. The guy’s a psycho, man. These people, they’re all going to need help.”

Castiel’s tears washed over his face without relenting. It was as though no one else existed. “The fortieth came and went, Father. And we survived it. All but one of us. Your son, Raphael, died gasping. You intended that for all of us? Do you really believe that was the way to end our journey?”

“Aren’t you weary, Son?”

Castiel stood and stumbled backward a few steps. “Yes,” he growled hoarsely. “I’m weary of all of this. It hasn’t felt right for a very long time. I’m now wondering if it ever really did. You’ve done so much damage,” he said through his teeth. “I helped you damage so many innocent people! They loved you!”

“Love?” The writer shifted to try to meet Castiel’s eyes. “You think you know what love is? Worship, Castiel. That is what this was. I gave these lost souls something to worship, something to work for, someone to believe in. The hemlock was the last chapter in their journey. What will become of them now? You’ve crushed their faith, their purpose. You failed them, Angel. Not me.”

Before Dean knew it, there were police vehicles, a fire engine and two ambulances crashing down the long dirt and gravel road around them. There was shouting, Benny’s voice was explaining, Jody was barking orders, and people were weeping. Dean heard little beyond his brother’s choked sobs on his shoulder, apologies and confusion and disorientation on his lips. 

“I got you, man,” Dean promised. 

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know what…”

“It’s okay, kiddo. I got you. You and me, we’re good, okay? Come on. Let’s see what we can do to help these people. Okay?”

Sam nodded quickly, and swiped at his tears. “They’re good people, Dean. They don’t deserve...I don’t know why I thought...It’s all so foggy…”

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Some of them are kids. They could use a teacher right now. 

Just as he knew it would, the words brought determination back to his brother’s eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”

Dean sighed with relief. That was the Sam he knew.


	14. The Song Remains the Same

The media circus which encompassed the entire town of Throckmorton was a sight to see. Jody Mills cursed the name Winchester nearly as often as Shurley. The locals were excited to be interviewed the first few days, and tired of it all soon thereafter. Sam had seen the waitress from that country cafe on the news, rolling her eyes and saying she had told them all so, at least three times now. 

Michael Shurley was a curious figure. He had not been a part of the Scarred Vessels since law school. But he had defended his father in every possible way since. He asked Castiel about his true half-brothers once. 

The man smiled wearily. “Michael is the oldest among those my father recognized as actual sons, the ones where there could be no doubt. Mike was known as the Sacrificial Son, the one who would forgo the ascension in order to ensure the family’s safety in this world. He would fight our battles on this plane to enable us to proceed to the next one.”

Sam nodded. “Hence the law degree.”

“I suppose it seemed prudent. And Mike...He would have done absolutely anything my father asked of him, anything at all, to remain the favorite son.”

“And Lucien? He was the next oldest?”

“The Prodigal Son. The one who strayed from the pack, but always returned home to a banquet. His job, as I now understand it, was to secure land in Guatemala for Father to move to.”

“To start the new story.”

Castiel’s voice hitched as it hadn’t since the first few days after the Last one. “Yes. Once this family had ascended, Father planned to move on to the next one. It was hubris to stay as long as he did. Had he simply given me and Raphael and Hannah orders from his new home, he might have been able to pin blame on me and walked free. He and Lucien had siphoned enough money to the new location to begin again. But Father had to see the End himself.”

Sam swallowed hard. “Do you think they’ll ever catch Lucien?”

An odd, humorless laugh huffed from Castiel’s lips. “No chance. He’s a shadow in the shadows, with a lot of money and no morals to weigh him down.” He sighed. “Raphael was next. You know of him. Then there was Gabriel.”

“He’s the one that Mike was so shocked to see in the courtroom.”

Castiel shook his head. 

They both remembered the look on Michael Shurley’s face when the man had sauntered in and sourly smirked his way through testimony. Judge Shurley had removed his robes and donned his best suit to defend his father before the grand jury, and had done so with a sauve, cool, unflappable demeanor, until he had caught sight of the prosecution’s mystery witness, when all color had drained from his face. Gabriel had smiled like the Cheshire Cat, and winked one of those whiskey eyes at his half-brother. 

The mayhem had been nonstop from that moment forward. 

“Gabe was loyal in his own way. He knew Father was taking money from people, manipulating them. But he didn’t know he planned to kill us all with hemlock. He kept quiet, kept hidden, because it was the price of his own freedom. But when he learned what the ascension meant, all of the family dying horribly so Father could move on and do it all again someplace else, he stepped in to tell the FBI everything he knew.”

Gabriel had taken Castiel aside after a long day of questions and legal proceedings. Sam had stayed resolutely by his side. But Castiel had not needed protection from this brother. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Gabriel had said softly. “How you holding up?”

Castiel had wandered for weeks through this process with a grim determination and a permanent look of desperate horror on his face. He had tried to smile at Gabriel, who Sam learned he had not seen for years. “I’m fine. I’m worried about the others.”

Gabriel watched him closely. “Yeah. Look. What you did...I talked to Hannah about how it all went down. That you kept your head and got everyone safe.”

“Not everyone,” he choked. 

“Hey. Raph did this to himself.”

Castiel stared. “To himself? Father did it. Father had me do it. Raphael didn’t deserve this any more than...And the others…Constantine and Tessa and…”

Gabriel cringed. “Yeah. Cas, listen. Chuck’s voice was in their heads. You know as well as I do, it’s powerful.”

Tears slipped down Castiel’s cheeks, and Sam took his hand. “They killed themselves, Gabriel. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t convince them this wasn’t the way. That Father was...was sick, that we were all sick. Tessa was even on watch, and she managed to...Because Father promised us. Constantine wrote in his note that it was because of me, that because I hadn’t finished what Father started, led us to Heaven, he had to find his own way there. He didn’t even blame me. He just said he was completing my work, since I couldn’t.” 

Sam put his arm around Castiel, and felt the strong man lean on him heavily. “Cas, you couldn’t have stopped them. Your brother is right. Chuck…”

“Brainwashing. I guess I always thought that was the stuff of science fiction.”

Gabriel gave him a sad snort. Then he hardened his voice. “Cassie, I just wanted to say...I’m proud of you, okay? You did what-what none of us could have done. You saw what was in front of you, and you saved them. You think Raph could have done that? Over a hundred people we loved would be dead right now, and they would have died in awful circumstances. I couldn’t have done it. I...I didn’t do it. I left. But you, you’re really the angel that we always counted on. You led these people out of danger, and you are helping them ascend from the darkness Chuck drown them in for so long. Least I can do is have your back. You’re a victim too, kiddo. It’s time I fought for something other than myself, for the first time in my life.”

Castiel sniffed. “You had to stare down Michael today. Not many of us can do that.”

“That was just fun. The hard part will be…”

Sam watched Gabriel’s swaggering conceit begin to falter. Castiel touched his brother’s shoulder. “You can’t listen to him. To Father. His voice will break us all, every time. He’s trained us, especially those of us who were born into this family, to crumble under his voice. If it weren’t for Sam and his brother, I wouldn’t be able to face him at all. He’s going to ask to see you. You can’t let him start talking. You got away once. Don’t let him get to you now.”

Gabriel nodded, but he looked sick to his stomach. “I’ve spoken to him over the years. I always pretended I was too strong to let him get into my head. But the truth, Cassie...I can’t sleep some nights because I can hear him in my head. And other nights, I can’t sleep because I can’t hear him. I pretend like I’m free. I’m barely holding it together, man.”

Castiel squeezed his arm. “Gabriel, I will always answer your call, no matter what time of day or night, no matter how long it’s been. Be strong now, and when this mess is finally over, we will lean on one another, even if we’re never in the same room again. You’re here to stand up for the family. I will never forget that, not for as long as I live. And I’ll always stand up for you.”

Relief flowed from the older man, and he smiled shakily. “Deal, little bro.”

Weeks after the preliminaries had faded off, Castiel and Sam stood, staring out over the land which had been abandoned. Police tape still fluttered with every small breeze. 

“It’s over two hundred acres,” Castiel sighed. 

Sam nodded. “The settlements for the other families are covered by all of Chuck’s other assets, including the land in Guatemala, and his secret accounts.”

“They couldn’t seize this because it isn’t in his name anymore. This is all unbelievable.”

Sam smiled down at him. “You said he planned to blame you for it all. So it had to be in your name. Then when you died, he would be the grieving beneficiary.”

Castiel had found, to his great shock, that he was in possession of land in four states, including the Throckmorton commune land, and cash accounts worth millions of dollars. Michael Shurley had been forced to liquidate everything Chuck owned himself, including what accounts were in Raphael’s name, which listed Chuck as beneficiary, to pay out settlements to victims. Castiel had directed his own settlement to be invested to create a foundation for former Scarred Vessels who might need additional psychological help or support transitioning in the future, and placed it squarely in Hannah’s able hands to manage it without him. The FBI and the justice system could handle the rest. Gabriel was leading the fight to prosecute Chuck in the criminal courts. Castiel and the others had given their statements and had been interviewed a hundred times, and now they were released, blinking into the sunlight to find their way on their own in the world. 

Except that here he was, where it had all begun, where the End had come and gone. 

“Hemlock,” Castiel breathed. “It could have killed me if my hands had been shaking just a little more while prepping the tea.”

“It’s horrible stuff,” Sam agreed. 

“Maybe it would have been better that way. If I had messed up while preparing the tea, and I had ingested or breathed in enough of it...I could have served as a warning to the others. It would have been better than Raphael-“

“No!” Sam gripped both his hands in his own. “No. It had to be you, Cas! You had to be the one to save the others. I’m sorry about Raphael. And I’m sorry about those that refused to let you save them afterward. But that’s on Chuck Shurley, not you. Gabriel was right. That FBI guy, Henriksen, he was right. You were a victim. You are a victim. Every single survivor pointed to you as the one who saved them.”

“I nearly got you killed, Sam.”

“I’m fine. Okay? Hey. Look at me. Cas? Look at me.”

Tears blinded electric blue eyes when they turned toward him. 

It was breaking Sam’s heart. “Cas, everything you did was to save people. You went about it the wrong way, because you were following the orders of a man who used your loyalty to manipulate you. You didn’t know.”

“Gabe did.”

“He didn’t, not really. He didn’t know how far Chuck was going to take this. Cas, you were raised to follow orders, and when the time came, you followed your heart instead. That’s why all the people you called brother and sister still love you, and still listen to you.”

“Some of them are so angry, Sam.”

“Of course they are. We are too. But they know you never hurt them purposely, Cas. Hey, look at me.” Sam lifted a hand to touch Castiel’s unshaven cheek. He bent to gently kiss his forehead. “Cas, you saved me.”

“I dragged you into this. I let them…” His eyes rolled up, and he flinched at his own words. “I let them brainwash you. I let them starve you and feed you lies.”

“It’s what they did to you your whole life!”

“So I know how painful it is!” Castiel shouted suddenly. He stumbled backward and began to sob. “I know how lonely and frightening it is to have nothing but that voice in your head! I know how disorienting it is to be in a dark room for days on end, for weeks on end, without knowing what is day and what is night, to eat only rice and broth and lies! I know how excruciating it is to have shame forced on you for so long you can’t remember what life felt like without it. I know how shame becomes your only form of nourishment, the only thing to fill you, so you let it grow inside, to fill the hollowness.”

Sam reached for him, but he pulled away. “Cas, you can’t keep punishing yourself-“

“Lamentations comfort only by lacerating the heart still more. Such grief does not desire consolation. It feeds on the sense of its hopelessness. Lamentations spring only from the constant craving to re-open the wound.”

He narrowed his eyes in concentration. “Dostoevsky?”

“I am made of that shame, Sam! Part of me will always sit in that dark room, hearing that voice, craving the familiar! I will always be desperate to fill my emptiness with that shame, because it’s the only thing I know will do the job. Ice water and humiliation. I brought you into my world, when I knew all I could offer you was my shame!” Castiel let his knees collapse below him, and he sat hard on the ground. “How could I love you so much, and then bring you here to feed you the same poison? Hemlock was only the last ingredient.”

Sam sat beside him, and wrapped an arm around his lover. 

At last, Castiel leaned into him heavily. “Why are you still here, Sam? You should hate me. God, I hate me. I hate me, Sam! God, Father, I hate me so much.”

He held him as he sobbed, and shushed him gently all the while. When he thought perhaps the man might finally be ready to listen, he spoke, and he did so in a quiet, soothing, firm voice, so there could be no doubt. “Castiel? You’ve been abused your entire life. You know this was never right. You were taught to embrace pain and guilt, and to look to your father as the one who could deliver you from it. Your brothers and sisters will never know just how deep your scars run. They were all victims, but you...you were the chosen one.”

Castiel was gasping now, and clutching at him desperately. 

“You were meant to follow orders, Cas, and you followed your heart.”

“What if I was wrong?” he hissed out. “What if it was the right thing to do, and I failed them all?”

Sam’s arms held steady. The therapist had warned Sam this might happen, that the confusion Castiel experienced now might make him return to his teachings for some sort of relief, for a sense of familiarity. Unlike Sam himself and most of the other survivors, Castiel’s entire life and sense of self was wrapped into his father’s ideology. “You did the right thing,” he murmured. 

“It was my job to bring them to the end of the journey. What if I failed them just when they needed me? What if they suffer because I didn’t do as I was told? Pain in the end-that was sensation of the vessel we were leaving behind! If I’d just finished it, they could be free! You would be free, Sam! What if I trapped you here when you could be free of pain forever right now?”

His voice never wavered in its strength. “Cas, you did what you could to save us from this world. Then you did what you had to do to save us from pain and death. Then you shepherded us through a nightmare of legal proceedings, and made sure everyone got what they needed to begin again. Now you have to focus on you for the first time, and you’ve never been prepared for that. You showed us all the way back to the world. You’re the one who is lost now, and I’m going to be the one to help you heal this time.”

“I love you,” the man wept. “I was never supposed to love you, and I love you so much. The only part of me that isn’t shame is love for you. Don’t leave me, Sam. Please. I know I don’t deserve you. But please. Please don’t leave me.”

“I’ve got you,” Sam promised. “I don’t want to lose you ever again. No matter where you’re going, I’ll go with you. I said it before, and I still mean it now. You are not alone, Cas.”

“Will Dean ever forgive me?” he wondered. 

“He already has. Weeks ago. He knows. And he’s decided you’re family, so you’re never going to be without his support too. Nobody knows better than you that family is worth fighting for. And no one fights quite like my big brother for someone he loves. All he asks is that you keep fighting too. For yourself, for your new life. Don’t worry about Dean. You’ve got to begin to forgive yourself.”

Castiel collapsed into sobs again, and Sam held him long after the beautiful sunset faded over his childhood home.


	15. From Here

Sam was combing his fingers through his hair when he awoke. He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately.

But his sweet husband just smiled down at him. “I’ve got you. No need for sorry.”

His head was in Sam’s lap, and he could feel how sweaty he was. He pushed himself up to sit. “I’m all right.”

“Talk to me,” he said gently.

He didn’t want to talk about it. But that was the rule. For many years now, ever since Castiel’s inevitable breakdown, and the month spent in the hospital wearing all white, ever since he had tried to leave Sam as a means of punishing himself, the rule was that he talked when Sam asked him to. It was a fair rule. He still didn’t want to.

“Cas?”

“Yeah,” he surrendered. “It was his voice. It’s been a long time since I slept with his voice. Sometimes…” He swallowed against the sickening shame in his throat. “Sometimes I just ache for it, even now.”

Sam was quiet. He ran his hands down Castiel’s arms, warming him and grounding him.

“So my brain just...tries to reproduce it. I hate that it’s comforting. It feels comforting, and then I remember just enough so that I know it shouldn’t feel that way, and it starts to turn sinister. Instead of just the recordings of the Teachings, it’s him telling me how I’ve let everyone down. How I...I damned them all.”

“You know that’s not so.”

Castiel smiled at him sadly. “I know. But I don’t remember that when I dream. I guess I woke you.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind. Gave me an excuse to hold you. Are you all right now?”

“I am. Are you?”

“I’m fine. Let’s get breakfast and coffee. I want to get busy early as possible today.”

Castiel was glad the required talking was done. He always felt better afterward, but it was difficult during the talk. “Did Sonny tell you we have another intake today?”

He nodded as they both rose to start their day. “He said this one is a piece of work. Scared to death and arrogant at the same time. Honestly, it kind of reminds me of my brother when we were kids.”

“Hard to imagine Dean afraid of anything.”

Sam smiled fondly. “Yeah. But he was trouble back then. Wouldn’t know it to look at him now. All responsible and stuff. But somewhere in there is that same scared kid.”

“And you?” Castiel knew the answer. But he liked when Sam was the one doing the talking.

“I was the angry one. All the time. I just simmered, while Dean exploded. But him, once he was done, he was good. He vented it all out. Me, I just boiled inside. I wonder every day what might have been different if either of us, or both, had a place like this to go to…”

It warmed Castiel’s heart when Sam said this. He had invested a great deal of money into turning this property into a place where lost boys could come and heal in nature. He hired Sonny, who had done something similar in upstate New York, to come and advise him on how to make it work. Sheriff Mills and her deputies were grateful to have an alternative to the detention centers for troubled kids, and Judge Hanscum-Lafitte near Fort Worth liked to use it whenever she found a kid who needed a new beginning.

New Beginning was Castiel’s dream. He and Sam used what they knew to help these children, most of them thirteen to sixteen, learn about themselves in the safety of the compound, where they worked in gardens and observed strict schedules, but also got the psychological help and space to heal that they needed. Many came to them from abusive situations, or from years of neglect, and they were often suspicious of any help offered. They learned to grow and cook their own food, and look after the horses and dogs, while the horses and dogs looked after them too. Each animal was trained to be comfort and protection for the children. They never minded sudden outbursts of anger or tears. Sonny and the other two men taught the boys how to gently care for the animals, and, in turn, understand how to take care of themselves.

“Every dog deserves to be treated with kindness,” he heard Sam murmuring to a boy later in the day. “Be kind to her, and she will always be kind to you. That’s the way it should be. No one has any right to hurt anyone else. Not even if they’re bigger or older or even if they’re family. Everyone deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. Look. She likes you, Max.”

The boy had smiled shyly up at him. “Thank you, Sam. Is it okay if I just sit with her for a little while?”

“She would like that. You’re good company for her.”

Tears filled the boy’s eyes. “I don’t think anybody ever thought that about me before.”

Castiel sighed. There was so much pain out there. There was so much need. He was grateful that his childhood home had been turned into something healthy. The land was part of him, and he found that he couldn’t leave it. Everyone else had moved on, years ago. Chuck and Michael were in prison. Gabriel was in the wind. Hannah still ran the foundation for the survivors of both the Scarred Vessel compound and other cults around the world, but out of Arizona now. Everyone was gone. But Sam had stayed, just as he had promised, and together they had built something good out of the ashes of evil.

When Sam had finished tutoring the boys for the day, he found Castiel staring out over his land from the large garden. “Hey. You sure you’re okay?”

He smiled. “I am. The journey is good.” He pointed toward the hill where Sonny was leading two boys learning to ride the therapy horses. All three were laughing, and the horses were quite content. “This is my paradise, Sam. This is what I was promised. I came about it in a way I never expected, and it was hard work and a lot of pain to get here. But the journey is good, and I’m happy.”

Sam had never, in all these years, lost that look of adoration in his eyes. “I’m so glad. I am too.”

“Did you come to tell me something?”

“Yeah. Dean and Ben are going to come for next week, give Lisa a break. They want to volunteer. I think Ben just wants to ride, but Dean’s going to make it a working vacation, because the man never learned to relax.”

He loved watching Sam laugh so easily. He nodded. “I’m glad they’re coming. I’m always glad to see them. And Dean’s first job will be cooking some burgers for all of the boys. They’ll love him.”

“Cas? This place. It’s a family again, you know?”

Castiel slipped his hand into his husband’s. “You are my family, Sam. Always. Forever. I will never tire of the journey so long as it’s with you.”

Sam simply squeezed his hand, and led him back to the community hall to begin preparations for the boys’ dinner.


End file.
